


Diggory In Deep

by Caughtinblackseyes



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Friendship, Nasty Language, Romance, Tri Wizard Tournament
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-03-16
Updated: 2013-03-30
Packaged: 2017-12-05 11:08:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 32,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/722562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caughtinblackseyes/pseuds/Caughtinblackseyes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cedric Diggory's got a busy year juggling an amorous Cho, Head Boy duties, avoiding hordes of star struck girls, pleasing his father, trying to win a tournament and studying for his NEWTS. What's a bloke to do when he finds himself falling behind in his studies? Call on our resident bookworm, of course!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Den of Decadence

**Author's Note:**

> I realize that Cedric was not Head Boy, but he is in my fic. I also know that Quidditch was put on hold due to the tournament, but they're all still flying around chasing that snitch in this fic.
> 
> I own nothing and make no money. I hope you enjoy!

“Cho, stop!” Cedric whispered in a frustrated voice while pushing the girl’s hand off his thigh for the third time. He was starting to get annoyed; he was here to study, not devote all of his attention to Cho. It wasn’t that he was adverse to her advances, quite the opposite in fact, but overt displays of affection were not his scene – let alone frantic groping beneath a library table. No, he quite enjoyed his privacy when engaged in such ventures.

Fact be known, sex was not high on his list of priorities at the moment; there was quite a bit going on in his life. He was extremely anxious to have been chosen as Hogwarts Champion, thrilled, but anxious. Hufflepuff, he knew, wasn’t exactly a house that most students, or teachers for that matter, would have thought to have produced the Tri-Wizard Champion. 

Cedric had taken a certain amount of satisfaction in the fact that the other houses had been staggered when the piece of parchment that had floated into Headmaster Dumbledore’s hand had had his name inscribed upon it. Truthfully, when he allowed himself to be talked into entering, he was sure that someone from another house would have been chosen. But all the same, he had walked proudly to where Dumbledore stood reaching out to shake his hand while wishing him a sincere congratulation. 

As astonished as everyone had been at his selection, though, it was nothing compared to the uproar of Potter’s name issuing from the Goblet at the last minute. Cedric hadn’t been there, of course. The champions by that point had been sequestered in a room after the third name had been identified. However, Cho had told him later of the unearthly silence that followed. She’d looked on the verge of tears as she continued to describe the scene that had unfolded. Then the hushed whispering had begun. A whispering that grew louder as Harry neared the headmaster. The students had made their displeasure all too clear, a few had even called Harry a cheat. According to Cho, the ranting and grumbling had not died down even when Harry was ushered into the room where the rest of the champions were waiting.

Cedric knew what had happened after that. All three occupants of the room had turned toward the entrance as Potter walked in, looking bemused, uncertain and abso-fucking-lutly terrified. 

Fleur assumed that Potter was bringing some sort of message for them, but when Dumbledore, following closely behind, rushed into the room with his robes flying behind him, they were all disabused of that idea. He roughly grabbed Potter by the shoulder, shook him, and demanded if he had put his name into the Goblet. The harsh manner in which Dumbledore grilled Potter raised a few eyebrows. Cedric, in all of his six years of attending Hogwarts, had never seen the headmaster so worked up; the wizard was seriously upset. 

Then all hell broke loose as Madame Maxime, along with that weird Karkaroff character, came barreling in and accusing Potter of tricking the Goblet, of having another student enter his name, and finally making allegations that Hogwarts made certain that two champions were chosen so as to have a better chance of winning “eternal glory” for their school. 

Fleur, finally catching a clue, began spouting French faster than a blast-ended skrewt could move sideways. Krum just grunted and left it at that. It didn’t appear as if anything less than a nuclear explosion had the ability to faze the bloke. Besides, Krum’s mentor was going plenty mental enough for the both of them. Cripes, McGonagall was twittering away her voice getting more strident with each twitter while Crouch went on and on about the rules being “absolute!” It was chaos, utter chaos. When Potter tried to defend himself the poor kid could not manage a word in edge wise. 

Later in private, Cedric admitted to Cho that although he’d said nothing, just crossed his arms, leaned back against the wall, and stared at the five hundred year old Persian rug as if nothing momentous was happening all around him, he had been peeved, too. However, what Cedric had felt after his first good look into Potter's haunted eyes far outweighed anything he might have originally felt. At that moment, Cedric had felt a deep and profound pity. 

 

Cho’s perpetually wandering hand brought his mind back from the Tranfiguration essay that Cho had claimed she had come here to help him with. He grabbed her questing fingers in a death grip while his light colored eyes furtively searched the library, checking to see if anyone had witnessed yet another groping incident. He hoped not, how embarrassing would that have been? It was a sad state of affairs when the library, of all places, was being turned into a den of decadence. 

Two tables over he met the laughing eyes of his mate Scott who waggled his eyebrows suggestively while inclining his head toward a dark, rarely used corner of the library. Cedric grinned. If Scott had been in Cedric’s shoes, he would not have wasted a second in ushering his girl into the deepest, darkest, most remote place this library had to offer to get his rocks off. Cedric did not doubt for one second that good ole Scott knew his way around a few of Hogwarts long lost classrooms and corridors.

Cedric’s grin slipped from his face when his eyes crashed into those of a girl with incredibly crazy hair. Great, just great, he groaned silently. He wondered just how much she had seen. Her eyes were intense as they stared steadily into his.

Cedric shifted in his chair, partly because the Gryffindor was making him uncomfortable and partly because Cho was making him uncomfortable. Granted, the two were of a very different type of discomfort. The Gryffindor girl with the bushy hair was making him squirm in embarrassment. Cho… well, she was making him squirm, but that had more to do with a certain part of his anatomy than with anything else. 

Cedric lifted his chin and met the girl’s gaze head on. If he were going down, he would at least maintain some sort of dignity. He felt a flush crawl up his neck and settle on his perfect cheekbones. As if being caught with your girlfriends’ hand on your crotch was even remotely dignified. Nevertheless, he would be damned if he’d look away first. 

Her frizzy, curl-clustered head tilted slightly to the left, leaving Cedric with the impression that she considered him a particularly difficult Arithmacy assignment that she was determined to decipher. Cedric did not care for the feeling. As if sensing this, the younger girl finally lowered her gaze. 

Cedric sighed in relief now that he was no longer being pinned to the chair like an insect on a display board. What was wrong with him? Why was he the one blushing like some third year caught sneaking a peek in the girls’ Quidditch locker room? 

So his girlfriend had been getting a bit frisky. It wasn’t as if they’d been caught going at it behind a bookshelf or anything equally inappropriate. Plenty of blokes sneaked a touch here or a squeeze there and no one seemed to notice, or at least they had the common decency to pretend that they didn’t notice.

“Is there a particular reason why you’re staring at Hermione Granger?”

Startled, Cedric whipped his head around. “Huh?”

“Why are you staring at Hermione Granger?” Cho, reiterated slowly, as if speaking to a particularly slow child.

“Oh, is that her name?” Cedric really wasn’t interested; but it would give Cho something else to do other than feel him up.

Leaning in until they were nose-to-nose, she whispered, “She’s a friend of Harry’s.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” he whispered back, feeling like a co-conspirator by doing so.

She sat back, pushing her long black hair off her shoulders. She grabbed her quill and parchments and began shoving them into her bag, 

“Well,” she sighed, “I just don’t get it.”

Cedric looked at her, completely confused. “Don’t get what?”

“Nothing,” she murmured. After a slight hesitation, she continued, “She’s not very pretty, is she?”

Now Cedric was beyond confused. Was this some kind of weird girl-thing that only other girls could understand? Because he sure couldn’t figure out what Granger being pretty or not had anything to do with her being Potter’s friend.

Giving up on his Transfiguration essay, he took her bag and flung it over his shoulder along with his own while reaching for her with his free hand, threading their fingers together. 

“She probably should have been sorted into Ravenclaw; she’s quite clever really.”

Cedric wasn’t sure where all this was headed. The only thing he knew about her was he remembered hearing that she’d once walloped Malfoy a good one. Anyone who could get the drop on a Malfoy was all right in his book, even if she appeared a bit of a nosy parker if today was anything to go by.

He pulled Cho through the library doors with her still chattering away about the silly Gryffindor.

“They’re always together, you know, the three of them. Do you know what people call them?”

Cedric didn’t, and he really didn’t want to know but Cho seemed intent on telling him so he let her ramble on. She sighed again and when she spoke, she sounded almost wistful. 

“The Golden Trio.” Cho snorted before saying, “As if there’s anything remotely golden about her.” Cedric assumed she was talking about Granger. “Isn’t that the most ridiculous thing?”

Cedric was more concerned as to why it apparently seemed to irritate Cho so much. It wasn’t as if Cho wasn’t popular or beautiful. 

There was real scorn in her voice when she added, “She’s short and squat with no shape to speak of, and that hair! Gods, I’d hex it off before I’d walk around looking like that!”

Cedric came to a stand still at that. Cho, not expecting him to stop, stumbled slightly before righting herself. To say that he was shocked by her outburst would have been putting it mildly. In all the time that he had known her, he could not recall her ever speaking of someone with such malice.

“Cho,” he admonished her quietly, “that was really ugly of you, and I can’t bring myself to believe that you said it.”

Her large, dark eyes suddenly filled up with tears, and he immediately felt like a total git. He pulled her into his arms, hugging her close and rubbing his hands soothingly up and down her back. 

“Let’s go out to the lake,” he murmured into her sweet-smelling hair. “It’s a lovely day, and I want to spend some quality time with my girl, all right?”

She smiled into his neck and nodded. “Yeah, that sounds good.”

Still nestled under his chin, she wrapped her arm around his waist and they made their way to the kitchen to grab a picnic lunch, Granger completely forgotten.


	2. Cedric's Musings and Harry's Crush

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cedric notices certain things about Hermione while Harry throws admiring looks at Cho.

Harry had been trying to catch a glimpse of Cho Chang seated over at the Ravenclaw table, and had just made rather shy eye contact when an unexpected jab to his side had him missing his mouth by a mile. Pumpkin juice spilled down the front of his uniform wetting his shirt and trousers.

Embarrassed, Harry quickly turned away, hoping that Cho hadn’t seen, but the giggles coming from the vicinity of Cho and her friends dashed those hopes. Harry was going to murder Hermione. She’d just made him look like an arse in front of the girl who was featured in his dreams almost nightly, a welcome change from the nightmares which usually haunted him.

“Harry… Harry…” Hermione jabbed him once more when he failed to acknowledge her first attempt. “I’ve been thinking.”

And, although Ron was perched a bit further down the Gryffindor table between Seamus and Dean, she and Harry had no problem hearing his comment. “What else is new?” Ron snorted into his spoon piled high with mashed potatoes. 

Seamus giggled, the arse, and Dean remained silent.

“Seriously, Ronald,” Hermione scolded him. “You could use a bit of thinking, you know. Not all of us have Quidditch on the brain or the all-consuming question of where we can get our hands on the next available biscuit.”

Ron shrugged his shoulders, having bigger and better things on his mind, a treacle tart for start. Ignoring Hermione was the best thing to do when she got all serious and stuff, which was pretty much all the time, so Ron spent a great deal of time ignoring her.

Turning away with a disgusted toss of her head, Hermione focused once more on Harry, who was giving his plate an inordinate amount of attention. 

Ron actually wasn’t communicating with Harry on a one-to-one basis, not since Harry’s name had flown out of the Goblet. When it had happened, Hermione had been as incredulous as the rest of the school, but she’d believed Harry when he said that he hadn’t put his name in the Goblet. Ron had not.

Ron had told Hermione that as Harry’s best mate he should have been told, or at least Harry could have helped Ron place his own name in the cup along side of Harry’s. Jealousy was ugly business, and it was obvious that Ron was riddled with its’ poison.

Hermione thought Ron was a dunce of the highest order to believe such nonsense. When she had told him so, he had gotten angry and accused her of siding with Harry. For a few days, he had ignored her as well. To Hermione’s singular dismay, she’d found she missed him! 

She and Ron had mended fences, but when she had suggested he do the same with Harry, he would not be swayed. Harry was equally as adamant, stating that a true mate would never have believed the garbage spewed by the other students. Hermione had no good argument to Harry’s statement because she agreed with him.

Reluctantly, Hermione realized that the idiots she called friends would need to work through this stupidity at their own pace and in their own way. Boys! She maintained good relations with both of them as long as the conversations they had singularly didn’t veer toward the other. 

Hermione caught Harry stealing what he probably assumed was a covert glance at Cho. Hermione grimaced inwardly. She had no idea what Harry saw in the Ravenclaw, other than her looks. She was stuck up, mean, and from what Hermione had observed in the library, a bit of a slag, too. Moreover, she was as far out of Harry’s league as say…Hermione’s gaze landed on a certain Hufflepuff, as Cedric was out of hers.

Dipping her spoon in the piping hot potato soup, Hermione spoke again. “I thought we’d practice the summoning charm this evening. 

“Uh huh,” Harry distractedly replied. 

Delicately sipping the fragrant soup, she licked her lips before saying, “We could use one of the old classrooms on the far side of the school. No one will bother us there.”

“Right.” 

Slamming her spoon on the table, Hermione demanded in an exasperated tone, “Do you want my help with this, or not?” 

Harry’s messy, black-haired head swivelled around. “Well, yeah,” he stated, looking confused, absently rubbing at his scar.

Hermione was filled with remorse. Here she was, virtually Harry’s only friend, giving him grief just because he was ogling the girl he had a crush on. What was wrong with her? 

If she had to be honest with herself, which Hermione generally was, she was somewhat jealous of the attention that Harry was giving to the older girl. It wasn’t that Hermione had feelings for Harry, but it hurt that he’d rather look at Cho than listen to her, especially as she was trying to help keep him alive, for Merlin’s sake! 

“Sorry ‘Mione.” Harry turned toward her giving her his undivided attention. Running a hand through his hair, he continued, “I’ve been a bit preoccupied.”

Hermione gave his hand a comforting squeeze. Dragons were enough to distract any person, and she should stop being so selfish. Harry was her best friend and he needed her now more than ever. Sure, Ron was her friend too, but it was different with him. More complicated. More confusing. And, if there one thing Hermione couldn’t tolerate, it was not understanding something. 

Normally, she’d run to the library and research the problem, not leaving until she had the answer, or until Pince tracked her down and threw her out. Still, Hermione knew this was different. Research wouldn’t cover this particular problem.

Out of the corner of her eye, Hermione saw Ron leaning in their direction. Probably trying to figure out what they were up to. Well, bully for him! Hermione had no plans of clueing him in. After all, Ron was acting as if he wanted nothing to do with whatever was going on with Harry, so Hermione was going to honour those wishes and try not to look smug about the fact that he obviously was dying of curiosity. 

“We’ll need your invisibility cloak,” Hermione continued, still keeping one eye on Ron. She pushed her bowl away and refused the sweet that Harry had offered after placing a substantial serving of pudding on his plate.

“Um, Hermione, do you think you could, you know.” With a wave of his hand, Harry indicated his damp clothes.

Hermione scanned the area around her to make sure no one was watching before giving a quick swish of her wand while whispering, “Scourgify.”

Immediately Harry’s wet garments were returned to their pristine and dry appearance.

 

*******************************************************************************************************************************************************

 

Cedric watched in amusement as Granger nonchalantly used a spell that most fourth years were just beginning to master. He was impressed by the ease in which she performed it and no one seemed the wiser. 

Here was a witch others seemed to be underestimating; it was a curious thing considering the professors sang her praises consistently. Oh, he knew that she was intelligent, everyone did, although he’d heard she had an irritating attitude and perhaps that was one of the reasons she was universally avoided by those not sorted into her own house.

It was a shame really. It was true she wasn’t much to look at, and since Cho had made those deprecating remarks, Cedric found himself observing Granger. He noticed how she practically stomped when she walked, especially when in a temper. It didn’t even come close to the smooth glide of Cho’s, but the movements of Granger’s hands and wrists were extremely graceful when she was doing a well-executed spell. 

Her hair was a catastrophe, there was no denying it, but he certainly didn’t see the need to hex it all off as Cho had suggested. In addition, Cedric really admired how she would lift her pointed little chin high in the air, proclaiming to all that she had dignity and class in the face of whomever, usually Malfoy, was giving her grief. Most girls would have walked away in tears after being called the atrocious names Malfoy tended to spout from his filthy mouth, but not Granger, although it must have been eating her up inside.

She was strong, resilient and she didn’t give a damn what anyone thought of her, or that was the impression she gave off. Cedric wondered what she was really like. He had the urge to find that out first-hand, but that would raise a few eyebrows, and unfortunately, unlike Granger, he did care what people thought. It shamed him, but it was true.

Cedric, from a young age, had felt the pressure to be perfect. Perfect face, perfect actions, perfect grades, perfect athlete, and perfect friends. Cedric had all of those in his life right now, and attempting to befriend Granger would probably jeopardize his perfect little world. 

She was a social pariah because people couldn’t tolerate her know-it-all attitude. Too many of the other students thought Granger was a suck up, making them all look bad. As if they weren’t enough strikes against her, she had to be one of the best mates of The-Boy-Who-Cheated to gain entrance to the tournament. Hell, even Weasley, who had been joined at the hip to Potter since first year, thought he was a cheat!

Granger remained a staunch and loyal friend when most would have dropped Potter like a hot potato with all the gossip and unpleasantness. Disaster dogged that kid’s footsteps, and Granger continued to stride right along beside him. 

Cedric was envious of such diligent devotion and couldn’t keep from wondering if his mates would have stuck by him if he’d been walking in Potter’s shoes. Would they have turned their noses up at all and sundry, ignored the gossip and innuendo? Would they have grasped his hand in a tenacious grip and marched off, pulling him along while blanketing him in safe comfort?

He was envious, terribly so, and yet for all his envy, for all his admiration of her courage and solidarity to Potter in the face of adversity, for all of that… he still didn’t have the courage to follow through with what he really wanted to do. And, what Cedric really wanted to do was get to know her better. Nevertheless, he couldn’t befriend her, not with the looming possibility that to do so would be the end of all he’d worked so hard to achieve. For the first time ever, Cedric began to question whether being perfect and living in a perfect world was so perfect after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you will be able to tell from the majority of my fics, I tend to keep alive the characters I came to love from the books/movies but who JKR felt it necessary to kill off. I get it, I do... there's got to be a plot and all, but geesh, so many great people died and well that's just not okay with me. Hence, people like Cedric (and Sirius and Remus and Dumbledore and Severus and Fred... You get the gist) are still breathing the Wizarding World air.


	3. Curfews and spell work and wands oh my!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cedric catches Hermione and Harry out after curfew and learns several _very_ interesting things.

Cedric was making his rounds. He had confidence in all the prefects, but he wanted to set a good example. He felt better knowing he was doing more than lounging lazily in the Head Boy’s quarters, twiddling his thumbs.

Not that he’d actually been twiddling his thumbs or being lazy. He’d been immersed in an Advanced Runes assignment, which in turn was giving him a massive headache. To Cedric’s eyes, the entire assignment was about as indecipherable as to why Professor Hagrid had felt it necessary to breed manticores with fire-crabs. He shivered; the result of that little experiment had certainly been nasty. 

It was no surprise that Professor Babbling’s class was creating problems for Cedric. He’d struggled through Intermediate Runes the previous year as well. Before he’d begun dating Cho, who was quite proficient in Runes, she had volunteered to tutor him, an offer he had been more than happy accept. Because of her, Cedric had managed to achieve an “E” that year with little to spare, but achieve it he had and it been all due to her. 

As way of thanks, Cedric had accompanied Cho to Honeydukes and told her to pick out whatever she wanted; it was on him. Smiling shyly, she’d pointed out several pumpkin pasties, a treat he’d noticed she’d purchased on the Hogwarts Express countless times. Unfortunately, taking into account their recent attempts at studying in the library, asking for her assistance in this instance was out of the question. It was a shame because he knew she’d have been a great help. 

Charms and Transfiguration were by far his best subjects so he had no concerns there. Advanced Potions was turning out to be a tad tricky, but although Professor Snape had snarkiness down to an art form, he knew his stuff. Cedric could only hope that an “E” would suffice as far as grades go; he needed to do well in Snape’s class, as it was a requirement of the Ministry’s Auror Program. 

History of Magic was tedious to say the least. The majority of the students slept through the entire course, but Cedric managed to keep his eyes open long enough to soak up some of the facts on Goblin Rebellions and Wars. It would be relatively easy to get an “O” in Boring Binns’ class. 

Advanced Arithmacy was problematic, which made sense seeing that it was very similar to Advanced Runes. Thankfully, Professor Vector had made it clear that tutoring lessons beyond those of the classroom were being offered and strenuously encouraged for those pupils whose performance in this field was less than stellar.

Cedric’s opinion on Defense Against the Dark Arts was ambivalent. Professor Moody certainly had a unique vision on how to properly educate them; unorthodox venues were constantly utilized. The now retired Auror knew, really knew what it was all about, had been in the trenches so to speak. Experience was by far the best teacher and Moody had it in spades. Yet, there was a sinister element to his ways that Cedric could not help but find slightly repulsive. Cedric could also admit that while he wondered about his teaching methods, he greatly admired Moody’s undoubted mastery. 

Rubbing his temples he continued down the vacant corridor. Nothing but his soft footfalls could be heard. Generally, the prefects patrolled in twos, but Cedric wasn’t frightened at patrolling alone; he’d done so numerous times without incident. Those thoughts no sooner passed through his head than he heard a noise. Startled, Cedric pulled his wand. A flash of Moody bellowing, “Constant vigilance!” raced through his head.

Cedric had it drilled into him from a young age by his mum to always carry his wand and have it within easy reach. Cedric was aware that Hogwarts was one of the safest, if not the safest place to be, but he still thought his mum’s advice sound. 

Edging his way down the hallway to an ajar door, Cedric slowly manoeuvred himself until he could peer through the open space. The sight that met his eyes should not have surprised him, but it did.

Potter was waving his wand around and rather awkwardly at that. Cedric wasn’t sure what he was trying to accomplish until he heard an exasperated voice admonish him.

 

“No, no, no, Harry! Pay attention or you’ll never be able to call your broom for the first task.” 

Call his broom? The first task? Now, this sounded interesting Cedric thought. He felt a twinge of unease at eavesdropping, he was a hardly a Slytherin after all, but he decided to hang about; his conscience be damned. 

Potter lowered his arm, an overwhelmed look on his face. “We’ve been at this for hours, 'Mione.” Potter, did indeed, look exhausted. “Can’t we give it a rest?”

Granger stepped into Cedric’s line of vision. Placing her hands on her hips, Hermione answered in a stern but sarcastic voice, “Do you think the dragon’s going to take into account that you’re tired?”

Cedric’s head jerked up. Dragon?! The first task involved a _dragon_? Cedric knew the tasks would be difficult, no one had ever accused him of being daft, but dragons! Weren’t they just a tad too dangerous? 

Hermione continued, “It’s not going to say, why sure, Mr. Potter, sit down and take a rest on that rock right there and hey why don’t you slip off your shoes and give your poor weary dogs a break while I practice my fire- breathing skills over yonder.”

Cedric would have found that funny except he was still trying to wrap his befuddled head around the fact that he was going to have to deal with a dragon.

“That dragon is going to roast you alive…”

“Thanks, 'Mione, you really know how to make a bloke feel good about himself.” 

Potter sounded both angry and despondent. Cedric knew he should break up this little to-do; it was after all way past curfew but curiosity and the possibility of gleaning pertinent information kept him glued to the spot. 

Cedric watched as Granger approached Potter, take his wand hand in her own, and slowly guide him through the proper wrist motions for the spell.

“Think you’ve got it now?” This time her voice was much less strident and more encouraging. “Here, let me show you one more time and then we’ll pack it in for the rest of the night, okay?” 

There was a note of cajoling now and that did make Cedric smile. Granger was a tough bird, that was for sure. Then he heard something that really disturbed him.

“I bet Fleur and Krum have it all figured out.” Potter sounded glum. “What with Madame Maxime and Karkaroff being adults and all.”

They knew about the dragons too?! What is this? Would he have been the only one unaware and therefore unprepared for the first task? Cedric’s sense of fair play was outraged. 

He wouldn’t have had a problem with Potter having a bit of an edge. He needed it; he was still just a kid for Merlin’s sake. But Krum and Fleur? They were adults in the wizarding world and had a much larger arsenal to use in the way of charms and spells than what Potter had access to. 

“Maybe,” was Granger’s supportive reply, “but you have me and I’m not going to let anything bad happen to you.”

It was said with such conviction that Cedric couldn’t help but believe her himself. Potter gave what sounded like a choked sob and threw himself at his friend who grabbed him up into a tight bear hug, soothing him like Cedric’s mum used to sooth him whenever he had a bump or a bruise.

Cedric was dumbstruck at the sight of the two embracing. Dumbstruck and what? Was jealousy twisting his gut, snaking stealthily between his ribs, causing an actual pain? Cedric placed an unsteady hand on his stomach as if to ease the ache that had taken up residence there, but it did not abate. 

What must it be like to have someone, a friend, hold you like that? Hold you, without the end result being a bout of serious snogging or hot sweaty sex, but instead, with a straightforward, heartfelt caring? He was once again made glaringly aware of the contrast. Cedric, knowing it was wrong and feeling like a dirty voyeur; continued spying on the pair. 

Granger pushed Potter’s perpetually messy hair off his forehead exposing the infamous scar, her fingers grazed over it then trailed down Potter’s cheek where she patted him lightly. 

Clearing her throat, she said, “One more time, Harry. You can do it, I know you can. Let me show you and then you give it a go.”

Potter nodded and watched closely as Granger brought her own wand before her, the sleeve of her robe fell back revealing her fine, delicate looking wrists and forearms. With a swish of her hand, she stated clearly and with absolute certainty, “ _Accio_ pillow.”

She was a bloody marvel, Cedric thought as he watched the pillow rush toward her, stop about a foot away and just hang there until Potter plucked it from the air. 

Potter was equally impressed. “Wow, ‘Mione! Maybe you should brew another batch of Polyjuice and complete the first task in my stead.”

Cedric was reeling. The surprises were certainly running rampant this evening. He had to have heard Potter wrong. There was no way someone in fourth year could have brewed a potion with such difficult components. 

“I doubt I could have handled a basilisk, Harry. Besides,” Hermione mumbled, "I didn’t exactly brew right, now did I?” 

Cedric did a double take. Everyone knew that Potter had tangled with a basilisk his second year so that would mean …he was speechless. That would mean that Granger had actually produced a Polyjuice potion two years ago?! No… no bloody way! Impossible!

A huge grin split across Potter’s face. “Believe me,” he snorted, “I’d have much rather been a cat than one of Malfoy’s brain dead body guards.”

Cedric assumed Potter was referring to Goyle and Crabbe, and Cedric had it on good authority via Ernie Macmillan, who shared several classes with Malfoy’s cronies, that Potter was correct in his assessment. Ernie had remarked more than once that they were both idiots of the highest order.

Hermione blushed. Cedric thought the colour rather becoming; it gave her complexion a sweet, rosy glow. He noticed other things about her appearance as well. Her hair was a mass of curls bunched up into an untidy knot at the back of her head and he thought it didn’t look half-bad, cute actually. She definitely wasn’t conventionally pretty, but she was fascinating to watch. The more he watched, the more he was intrigued, and this latest revelation only made him more so.

“Harry,” Granger began in a hesitant voice. “Maybe,” she paused, “maybe you should tell Cedric about… you know, the dragons.”

At Potter’s flummoxed expression, which probably was a mirror image of his own, Granger added anxiously, “It’s hardly fair that all the champions save Cedric know.” 

When Potter didn’t answer she rushed on, her face filled with exasperation, “Come on, Harry.” Potter flinched as Granger’s voice rose in volume. “How would you like it if you were the only one left in the dark?”

Cedric thought she had a valid point, mainly because he was the one left in the dark and it sure wasn’t a fun place to be. Still, it was mighty decent of Granger to suggest it. Cedric felt a warmth where earlier he’d felt that stabbing ache, this was a much more pleasant sensation. Granger would have made a fine Hufflepuff; she was a good sort!

Cedric was highly interested in Potter’s response. Would he follow his friends’ advice? Would he put aside the House differences and all the ugly insinuations and remarks that his fellow Hufflepuffs had been throwing Potter’s way?

Cedric had to admit that his house was carrying this rivalry with Potter a bit too far. The buttons had been the last straw, and Cedric had told them all point-blank to stop wearing them. Privately, Cedric felt that it only served to tar the reputation of their own House, but Scott had said that they felt justified in what they were doing. Potter had cheated, and cheating was cheating and that was all there was to that.

Scott failed to mention, although Cedric knew it, that the suggestion of cheating was only part of the reason. His friends and even Professor Sprout, their head of house, were outraged that Potter had stolen Hufflpuff’s glory, their moment to bask in the sun. An excited voice broke into Cedric’s thoughts. 

“Well done, Harry! Well done!”

Granger was currently jumping up and down in uncontained excitement. Potter beamed from ear to ear looking as if he had just won the lotto. 

“I’m so proud of you.” Granger gushed. 

But Potter’s face fell quickly at Granger’s next suggestion, delivered with what she hoped would be contagious enthusiasm, “Now that you’ve done it you shouldn’t have any problem doing it again.”

Apparently, Potter was more than able to fend off the enthusiasm contagion bug for he looked far from enthused to Cedric’s amused eyes. Cedric had to bite his lip to keep from laughing out-right. 

Judging Potter’s downtrodden, irritable appearance correctly, Granger sighed as if she had the weight of the world on her slender shoulders.

“Fine, fine… but on one condition, Harry.” 

Potter bucked up considerably at the thought of quitting this evening’s lesson. He would agree to just about anything at this point, Cedric surmised.

“Sure, fine… whatever.”

Wagging her finger at him as if he were a wayward child Granger stared pointedly at him while saying, “You must tell Cedric about the dragons.”

It came out as a demand, not a request, but Potter ignored that little detail and with a loud groan mumbled, “Awww… ‘Mione.”

“Harry!”

Potter pocketed his wand all the while glaring at Granger, which she studiously ignored while pulling back her robes to place her own wand in an interior pocket.

Cedric’s eyes followed the flow of her robes which when pulled back gave an enticing glimpse of her knees. Giving them the once over, Cedric decided that they were lovely knees indeed, well rounded while not being too fleshy. 

So caught up in his ogling, Cedric barely had time to scramble back when he heard them approaching the door, thankful his seeker reflexes served him well. He flitted down the corridor with nary a peep and pressed himself against wall. He was tempted to steal a look from where he was hidden but did not dare.

Cedric stayed where he was for at least five minutes, wanting to make sure they were away before making his own way down the hall. He found himself in front of his quarters far sooner than he would have thought possible, but then, he had been indulging in some seriously deep thinking. 

Reading himself for bed, Cedric followed his nightly toiletry routine before turning back the yellow and black duvet and climbing into the welcoming comfort of his four- poster bed. Though extremely weary, Cedric found him self-unable to sleep. But then, who could blame him with visions of fire-breathing dragons, head-ache inducing essays, and Granger's pretty knees running amok inside his head?


	4. Study Partners

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cedric finally works up the nerve to ask Hermione to tutor him in a few of his classes.

Hermione, who had been in the library flipping through a copy of The Department of Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures researching for her pet project, was extraordinarily confused by Cedric’s request. “I don’t understand why you’re asking me. Aren’t you dating Cho Chang? She is in Ravenclaw, where the super intelligent set up shop.” Cedric wasn’t an idiot, either, Hermione thought to herself, not by any stretch of the imagination. And yet here he was asking her, Hermione-nobody-of-consequence-Granger, for help in his studies! “And you’re no slouch when it comes to brains, either, so…”  
  
Cedric rubbed his forehead with the tips of what Hermione’s mum would have called piano fingers, long and slender but strong and capable looking. She wondered if they were calloused as well. Harry’s were; Quidditch required Herculean strength and a grip like no other, so it would stand to reason that Cedric’s hands had suffered a similar fate.   
  
Cedric Diggory, Hermione was forced to acknowledge, was what Lavender Brown and Pavarti Patil referred to as prime grade-A beef. While Hermione detested such idiotic and frivolous euphemisms, she couldn’t deny the validity of their observations. Yes sirree, if Hermione were to show up at the house over the holidays with someone like Cedric in tow her mum would be doing back flips, front flips; flips from any angle you could come up with, a pipe dream if there ever was one! The Cedric Diggorys of this world, both wizarding and Muggle, were far beyond the realms of reality for girls like herself.   
  
How many nights had her roommates oohed and ahhed while giggling and lamenting the fact that “Hufflepuffs’ Hot Head Boy” was off the market while Hermione had sneered at their juvenile antics? She had refused to be drawn into what was bound to become a prolonged dialogue on Cedric Diggory’s delightful attributes. Why should she squander invaluable study time with such nonsense? There was also the degradation of demoting Cedric, a first class student, into nothing more than an object of lurid lasciviousness. It made Hermione’s stomach turn!  
  
Cedric wondered how much he should tell her, since his reasons for not studying with Cho were of a decidedly personal nature. She was a distraction he couldn’t afford right now, yet she still insisted on coming to the library every day. It was starting to drive him and his libido nuts.  
  
Should he tell Granger that Cho was too damn sexy for him to think straight? That the divine scent of hyacinth and oriental musk wafting from Cho’s ebony hair teased his nostrils, making all comprehensive thought disappear, only to be replaced by the sudden urge to carry her off for a good old-fashioned, thorough snogging? No, Cedric decided. Definitely far too much information.  
  
It had taken days for Cedric to work up enough nerve to approach Granger with this little brainstorm. Brain fart more like, Cedric was now of that distinct opinion. Especially as Granger was peering up at him with her fathomless brown eyes, no, not just brown. They were more like the deep, rich color of caramel. Cedric, it just so happened, was partial to caramel.   
  
The expression of consternation on her face after he’d ask her to tutor him had him regretting his decision. Maybe he should find someone else, someone less intimidating, someone less inclined to question his motives. But, hell, she was the most proficient student in Runes and Arithmacy, and at Professor Vector and Babblings’ recommendation, he had made up his mind to at least ask her if she’d be willing.  
  
Cedric’s mates, Scott in particular, were flummoxed by his decision. Scott sought him out after he had informed his housemates of his intentions. Cedric hadn’t been looking for their blessing, but he did want them to know of the potential possibility that he would be spending some serious time with Granger.

 

 

* * *

 

Looking utterly bemused, Scott had demanded, “Ced, you’re having me on, yeah?”   
  
Cedric had glowered at him, annoyed by his friend’s interference. “No. Why would I kid about something like this? What’s the big deal?”  
  
Scott had back-pedaled a bit and spread his hands in a placating manner before stating quietly, “It’s not a big deal, Ced, but she’s a _fourth_ year! What good will she be to you?”   
  
Before Cedric could expound on Granger’s extraordinary credentials, Scott barreled right along, “That aside, why would you want to fraternize with one of the only two members of the Harry Potter Fan Club? Huh?”   
  
Cedric opened his mouth, but Scott once again butted in stating nastily, “Oh, yeah, I forgot, she’s now the _only_ member. Weasley finally wised up to the limelight hog of Hogwarts! He’s now best mates with that Irish kid.” A satisfied look followed Scott’s last statement.  
  
Cedric frowned at the bitterness dripping from each and every word that escaped his friend’s mouth. Did Scott really hate Potter this much? What had the younger boy done to deserve his contempt?  
  
“Great Merlin, Scott,” Cedric exclaimed. “Where is this coming from?”  
  
Scott gaped at Cedric, looking at him as if stupid were Cedric’s middle name. He waited patiently while Scott struggled to contain himself. Looking dejected, Scott hesitated briefly before responding to Cedric’s query. “You just don’t fucking get it, do you?”  
  
As a matter of fact, Cedric didn’t, but he was trying. Scott settled himself on the common room couch, closing his eyes as he let his head fall back against the cushion behind him. He mumbled in a tired voice, eyes still shut, “He’s an arse-wipe, Ced. He’s a user of the worst sort. Dippy Granger doesn’t get it either.”  
  
Cedric bristled. Granger was not dippy, though why it should bother him that Scott thought so hadn’t quite added up in his brain yet. But Cedric didn’t interrupt his friend; he really wanted to hear where this was headed.  
  
“When are you going to catch a clue? Potter… Potter’s…” Cedric waited patiently, giving his friend time to come up with whatever it was he was trying to say. “He’s going to win, Ced.”  
  
Cedric blinked. “Win…?”   
  
Jumping to his feet, waving his arms around wildly, Scott rounded on Cedric.   
  
“Yeah! Win, Ced! Win! Fuck, talk about being dim!”  
  
Comprehension hit home. It was with a great deal of shock that Cedric finally cottoned on. Scott actually believed… that he… Cedric Diggory… was going to lose the tournament to, of all people, Harry Potter! _A totally inexperienced fourteen-year-old kid_!   
  
“Finally,” Scott barked, noting Cedric’s dawning comprehension. “Good one on you, mate.” Scott’s tone was derisive, but his face told a different story. He looked defeated.   
  
Cedric was mad as hell and didn’t bother trying to hide it from Scott. Narrowing his eyes into mere slits, he snarled, “So, I’m going to lose am I? The first task hasn’t even begun, and already I’m lagging behind?”  
  
Cedric had intended to share what he knew about the first task with Scott but not now that he knew of Scott’s disturbing lack of faith in him. Well, Scott could just stuff it up his arse!   
  
“Where’s the bloke who badgered me until I put my name in the cup? The one who all but shouted from the skies that I was going to be ‘The Hero of Hufflepuff’?” Cedric shoved Scott in the chest with his finger. “Where is he?!”  
  
Scott flushed darkly but didn’t look ashamed. In a weary tone, he replied, “It’s not your fault, mate. The deck’s stacked in Potter’s favor.”  
  
Cedric felt the sudden urge to wallop Scott but good. A highly unusual reaction as he wasn’t usually prone to violent outbursts. Going toe-to-toe with Scott, he thundered, “What’s Potter got that I haven’t?! What’s one reason that you think Potter’s going to wipe the Quidditch pitch with me?”  
  
Scott, never one to back down from a confrontation, yelled right back at him. “I’ll give you two reasons, Ced. _Two_!” Holding up one finger Scott stated pointedly, “Dumbledore, Potter’s got Dumbledore.” Holding up a second finger, Scott enunciated clearly, “Granger, brainiac of the century, Granger!”  
  
Ignoring the reference to Dumbledore, Cedric went directly for the part relating to what Scott saw as Granger’s role in all of this was.   
  
“Granger shouldn’t be a problem,” Cedric bellowed, “since she’s dippy-ness personified, remember? And on top of that,” he added with exaggerated civility, “she’s nothing but a lowly, imbecilic fourth year that according to you doesn’t have enough brain cells to tutor me, so how the hell is she a threat?”  
  
“I didn’t mean dippy as in dumb…” At Cedric’s disbelieving glare, Scott amended his statement. “Okay, I did mean dippy dumb but only in regard to Potter. Outside of him, she’s as brilliant as they come, but it’s obvious he has her completely hoodwinked about his true character. Have you seen the two of them together?”   
  
Indeed Cedric had, and Hermione hadn’t appeared the least bit hoodwinked by Potter when Cedric had been spying on them. Cedric winced. Spying was such an ugly word. When he _came upon them_. Yeah, that was better. Head Boys didn’t spy, they came upon people while performing their nightly duties.   
  
He was so caught up in his thoughts that Cedric almost missed Scott’s next words. “Put her with Dumbledore, and there’ll be no stopping him. It’s inevitable.”  
  
All the anger in Cedric’s body suddenly dissipated leaving him with shaky legs and a spinning head. Talk about idiots, Scott was head of the class!   
  
“You’re an arse, Scott,” this time it was said with a sad form of affection. “There’s positively no way, none that Dumbledore is in cahoots with Potter, and I’d be real careful to whom you spout that slanderous drivel to… Mr. Rita Skeeter!”  
  
Just as he’d hoped, that last bit made Scott smirk and then break out into genuine laughter. Laughter in which Cedric was all too pleased to join him in. It went a long way into easing the tension and clearing the air.  
  


* * *

  
  
  
Hermione impatiently tapped her quill against the wood surface of the library table, waiting for Cedric to answer her question. Her hand stilled, and she sat as if hypnotized by the slight pink flush, which crept up from the confines of the collar of his white oxford school shirt. Hermione wondered if he had a condition, he sure did seem to flush an awful lot.   
  
“Well,” Cedric started, then decided to change course. “You see… um,” he trailed off. His lips curved into what Hermione could only call a grimace, although it looked like he had actually been trying for a grin.  
  
Soft snickering coming from the section of the library that housed various books on Invisibility claimed Hermione’s attention. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to surmise that the simpering bunch of girls peeking round the sky-high bookshelves were eyeing up Cedric as if he were a gift from the gods. The attention wasn’t anything new; he’d always been admired by the throngs of female denizens of Hogwarts. But since Cedric had been named one of the Hogwarts’ champions, his already overwhelming popularity had amplified ten-fold. Not that Hermione paid attention to such goings-on.   
  
More giggling drew Hermione’s eyes farther across the room to where the Bulgarian seeker Viktor Krum was surrounded by his own little fan club. Hermione had to admit, the library was the very last place she had expected the famous seeker to frequent, but frequent it he did. Hermione supposed his initial aim had been hiding out, as it had to be taxing to have a constant flow of Quidditch groupies hounding your every step. She had to give him credit; it had worked for a while. The nickname “Dumb Krum” which envious classmates from all three schools had dubbed him, seemed in her opinion to be far off the mark.   
  
Cedric was now fidgeting with his yellow and black striped tie. Hermione didn’t think she’d ever seen Cedric Diggory so discomforted, and it was quite amusing. Hermione had things to do though, so she decided to put the poor bloke out of his misery. “No problem, Cedric. I can squeeze some extra tutoring lessons in somewhere.” Cedric’s face miraculously cleared. “Just give me your schedule, and we’ll work out times.”   
  
Hermione, now in teacher mode, continued, “The library will be the best place to meet; everything we need is right here, all the resources and such.”  
  
Cedric nodded his agreement, his gratitude obvious. “Thanks, Granger. You have no idea of how much I appreciate this.”  
  
Hermione smiled at his enthusiasm. Little did he know that it was just as a big a thrill for her. Finally, she was going to study with someone who was eager and willing to learn, someone she might actually be able to have an intellectual conversation with. Now if only Harry would get around to telling Cedric about the dragons. She was going to have a word with him again on the subject and if she had force Harry to fess up by the point of her wand… well, then she would! 


	5. Library Lessons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Krum makes Cedric nervous. 
> 
> Cho has a fit over Cedric's tutoring lessons with Hermione.
> 
> Hermione's having a great time teaching someone who actually _wants_ to learn.

* * *

**  
**   


**Chapter Five**

 

Cedric could not concentrate, and by Merlin, he’d been trying. The cause of his discomfort sat three tables across from him, directly within Cedric’s line of vision. Granger had her head bent close to his parchment looking over the changes he had made to his Ancient Runes assignment after she had pointed out the few errors there were.   
  
She seemed oblivious to the black looks a certain large professional seeker from Durmstrang was sending in their direction. She tsked under her breath and tapped him on the wrist to get his attention. Cedric paled at the way the visiting champion clenched his meaty hands around the edge of the table. He wouldn’t have been surprised if that part of the table had crumbled into dust under the angry man’s grip.   
  
Cedric didn’t know Krum, but then again, who did? He sure didn’t go out of his way to befriend anyone in the castle, and Cedric had seen little to none of him. But he had been making repeated appearances in the library of all places. What was up with that? Cedric wasn’t certain, but did they even  _have_  a library at Durmstrang?   
  
Krum would strut into the room military style – did the bloke ever relax? – slump his hefty bulk down on one of the chairs, usually the one where he was now seated and would just sit there. It was a trifle odd, but it was never anything to owl home about until Krum’s wrath began to be geared at him. Was he trying to intimidate him? Was that why Krum came to the library day after day, to sit and send vicious looks at him to unsettle him so that he would possibly make a mistake during the competition? Cedric was flummoxed.   
  
Did Krum follow Potter around in the same manner to unnerve him as well? Cedric knew Krum made no effort to approach Fleur, didn’t go about terrorizing her the way he did with him. Cedric was well aware of this fact because he had been avoiding Fleur. The French girl was everywhere Cedric managed to be. It was as unnerving as Krum, albeit in a very different way.   
  
This was Cedric and Granger’s third official study session, the first two having been made remarkably awkward by Cho. She had been mad as hell when he had told her about the arrangement that he and Granger had agreed to. Moreover, she had made her anger all too clear by showing up to his first study session and being rude to Granger. From the moment Cho had sat down at the table, she had gone out of her way to ensure that Granger knew she was out of her league by continually referencing people and events which only he and Cho had knowledge of, effectively shutting Granger out.  
  
Cedric knew that Granger had done her best to try to tune Cho out and focus on Cedric, but Cho made it an impossibility. Cho would whisper to him while Granger was discussing the properties of a certain combination of runes or Cho’d attempt to show him what she considered a far better way or better interpretation than the one Granger had just explained, which only served to confuse him more. By his reckoning, Granger’s way was not only easier to follow but the answers were reached far more quickly and accurately then if he were to use Cho’s methods. Every time Granger leaned in to check on his progress, Cho was right there on his other side, crowding him. They must have looked extremely odd to the other occupants of the library with Cho all but draped over him and Granger glaring daggers.   
  
Cedric had noticed that their little display had caught the attention of Viktor Krum, the man who had, for some odd reason, had become the unofficial bane of Cedric’s existence. He had briefly glanced their way, and for a moment his dark, thick brows pulled into a deep frown. Cedric hadn’t been sure what to make of that, but the thought that Krum might be interested in Cho flashed through his head. Krum had turned away before Cedric could give him the time-honored, get-your-own-girl searing scowl.   
  
The second session had been no better than the first. Cho had all but sat in his lap and giggled each time he attempted to move her to her own chair as if it was a game. The look on Granger’s face had been murderous.   
  
After only ten minutes or so, Granger stood up, slammed her books into a pile, and informed him, rather regally, that whenever he was ready to do some serious studying he could let her know. Sticking her pert nose in the air, she sent Cho a look that would have turned honey rancid and stomped off like a Hippogriff with a sore beak.  
  
After Granger had gone, he had angrily pulled his own books toward him and piled them together in much the same manner as Granger had. He then returned several sheets of parchment on which he’d had his completed Runes assignment into his bag, forcibly pushed his chair back and left a very confused Cho sitting alone at the table.  
  
After Cho had gotten over her initial shock, she had quickly followed him. Cedric was just passing the fourth floor bathroom when Cho caught up with him. She was breathing heavily, a light sheen of sweat marked the otherwise perfect hairline of her forehead.   
  
“What’s wrong, Ced?” she asked while placing a hand on his arm. She sounded as breathless as she looked. Then she ruined any good feelings her prettily mussed up appearance might have gained her by stating sharply, “I have never been so embarrassed in my entire life! How could you leave me like that?”   
  
The quill that Cedric had been clutching in his hand snapped in half. How in the hell had this turned out to be about her? This was about his studies. This was about his future. Didn’t she get that?   
  
“Cho,” he said slowly, “I need Granger…”  
  
“No, you don’t, Ced,” she interrupted. “You’ve got me. I can tutor you,” she stated eagerly while clutching at the sleeve of his robe.  
  
Cedric tried again. “Granger’s brilliant at Runes and Arithmacy, and I need my tutor to be brilliant.”  
  
Cho released his sleeve letting her dismay show openly on her face before asking quietly, “Are you saying I’m not smart enough to help you?” Indignant at his perceived slight she stated shortly, “I’m top of my class for Merlin’s sake!”   
  
Shaking his head, Cedric said, “I know, I know but Granger’s top of the school.”  
  
The fury that twisted Cho’s face wiped the beauty away completely. “That little cow!”  
  
Cedric blinked in surprise. He might have expected her to be angry… but at him, not Granger. This was just too weird for words. Déjà vu overwhelmed him. It was like Scott all over again only with estrogen. What was it about those two Gryffindors that brought out the nasty in wizards and witches alike?   
  
Granger and Potter, Potter and Granger. Between the two of them, they had brought him nothing but grief. So maybe they were unaware of the damage they were doing. Unaware that one of his best mates was going round the bend, was still so obsessed about Potters’ participation in the tournament. Unaware that his girl was going plain batty.   
  
Cho was pacing, mumbling under her breath. “I knew it, that Muggleborn trash causes trouble wherever she goes, ruins everything she touches. Harry doesn’t make a move without consulting her first; it’s pathetic.”  
  
Potter again, Cedric thought with consternation. He sure had a way of worming into Cho and his business. Bloody bastard hadn’t even told him about the dragon yet, and it didn’t look as if he had any plans on doing so either.  
  
“That is enough,” Cedric stated firmly, cutting the air with his hand. “Granger is going to see me through Runes and Arithmacy, and this is the end of it!”  
  
“Fine,” she spat at him. “If you choose  _her_  then I guess  _we’re_  through.”  
  
Cedric was shocked by her ultimatum. This wasn’t the Cho he’d dated for the past few months. This was a stranger standing before him, rage coloring her a face a deep red.   
  
“Right. Fine.” He stated simply and without visible emotion.  
  
She had definitely not been expecting that if the look of agony that flitted across her face was anything to go by. Truth be told, he hadn’t known he was going to say it until it had flown out of his mouth, so they’d both gotten a surprise. Nevertheless, he wasn’t going to take it back. She was being absolutely ridiculous.   
  
Cho couldn’t believe it had come to this. She and Ced were arguing over that ugly, unremarkable bookworm! She bunched her hands up in her robes wondering what she could do or say to fix the situation. Nothing came to mind except for the obvious. She was going to have to give these ludicrous lessons her blessing. Shite in a hand basket!  
  
She gave Cedric a pleading look, her eyes filling with tears and a sob catching in her throat as she said, “I’m sorry. I guess… I guess… I’m jealous.” It galled her to have to say it out loud, but she’d say anything to get back into Ced’s good graces. He was the best thing that had ever crossed her path, and she wasn’t about to stuff it up over a pathetic nobody.  
  
Playfully running her hand up and down the front of Cedric’s robes she continued, “Forgive me?” She flashed that delightful pout that always managed to melt his resolve.  
  
“Of course,” he agreed, pulling her close while resting his hands on her hips. “No more of this idiotic jealousy. Granger’s my tutor and nothing more, yeah?”   
  
“Yeah,” she whispered against his mouth.  
  


 

* * *

  
  
Granger was a tough taskmaster, but there was no doubting her natural abilities in the area of Runes. He had learned more from her than he had in the previous years of classroom teaching. Not that Professor Babbling wasn’t a good teacher; there was just something to be said for one-to-one tutoring. Granger was big on structure, and she demanded that he do his best. She didn’t let him slide with just a basic understanding of the necessary concepts in regard to the more difficult runes. Oh no, she couldn’t even give him that much. She insisted on total awareness of not just one of the meanings behind specific runes, but all of the meanings, and she drilled him relentlessly until she was satisfied.  
  
In frustration over a particularly difficult arrangement of runes, Cedric had demanded why it made a difference. Granger looked shocked at his question, poked him in the chest with her quill and then proceeded to regale him with the innumerable reasons. The most important being that in his career as an Auror he would undoubtedly come across a parchment, object, item, doorway or the like engraved with runes that would need to be deciphered, and it would likely be a life or death scenario. Not only his life would depend on the outcome, but also the life of his potential partner, and did Cedric really want to be responsible for the death of another human being?   
  
Granger’s words had had a sobering affect; he hadn’t even thought that far in advance. At this point, his chosen profession was just a dream, but soon he would be leaving Hogwarts and if all went well, going onto Auror training. He would be partnered with another person, someone who would be putting his or her life on the line with him and for him, and he would be doing the same in return. He most definitely did not want the death of another person on his conscience and so with renewed determination he put his nose to the grindstone.

  
  
Hermione was impressed. Cedric was a fast learner and an eager student. Sure, he got frustrated at times and start running his hand through his hair in exasperation until it was standing out in all sorts of angles. She liked it, though, because not only was it a sign that Cedric was working with religious zeal on a particularly difficult problem, but (she admitted privately to herself) it looked cute, too.   
  
Hermione had been very relieved when he’d shown up for their third lesson sans Cho Chang. The girl had been a pain in the arse from the beginning in Hermione’s opinion. Anyone who stood in the way of the quest for knowledge was a menace of the worst sort. The loon couldn’t seem to get it through her thick skull that she and Cedric were there to study. She had been unbearable with her twittering and giggling, Merlin, it was worse than that gaggle of geese that followed Viktor Krum about. Who would have thought that one girl could out dement a whole slew of them? Somehow Cho had achieved just that, and Hermione had seriously considered committing hari-kari that first day.   
  
The second day had followed in much the same manner, only worse. Hermione had given it her best shot, had been far more patient than she had ever been with Harry and Ron and their shenanigans. After Cedric’s second attempt to get Cho back into her own chair, Hermione had decided that enough was enough. Grabbing up her books and supplies, she’d informed Cedric that when he had made the decision to take his studies seriously he could contact her. With that she had turned on her heels and exited the library, but not before she had seen Cho flash a victorious smile which had Hermione fuming. What was it about that little bint that mesmerized the male population here at Hogwarts? Hermione just didn’t get it; maybe one needed to possess a Y chromosome to understand.   
  
Cedric must have taken a stand somewhere along the way because when he showed up in the library today, he was alone. They hadn’t actually planned a study session, but Cedric must have figured she’d be there working on her own assignments and took a chance that Hermione would be willing to set her own studies aside to help him. She had, but only after she had determined that Cho wasn’t going to make a fashionably late entrance.  
  
They’d been working on his homework going on three hours, and out of the corner of her eye, Hermione could see Pince heading their direction, presumably to move them along as it was almost eight. Viktor Krum, who, to Hermione’s astonishment, was still in the library, was also getting ready to leave. He strode toward their table and offered to help Hermione put her books back into the proper places. Hermione was surprised, but gladly took him up on his offer. Cedric, still engrossed in his work, didn’t even glance up. Viktor took the bulk of the books from Hermione, lightly brushing her fingers in the process. It barely registered to Hermione, but Cedric noticed. He also noticed how Viktor shortened his stride so Hermione didn’t have to struggle to keep up. Nor did it escape him that the Bulgarian seeker had moved so that his shoulder came within a hair’s breath of Hermione’s, and Cedric didn’t like it. Not by a long shot.  
  


* * *

 


	6. Surprising Revelations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry practices the summoning spell. Cedric realizes that Krum has a thing for Hermione. Viktor makes his move, and Hermione gets a gift from an admirer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to say that I have always loved Viktor and one of these days I'm going to write a fic where he actually does get the girl (Hermione). This isn't the fic but it doesn't stop me from loving the daylights out of this guy because he was the first to see our Hermione in her true and glorious light.
> 
> Forgive my attempt at Viktor's accent.

* * *

**  
Chapter Six**

  
Harry had been working steadily on the summoning spell. Sweat drenched the dark hair at the nape of his neck. He was calling heavier items now, but it was taking up quite a bit of energy. Hermione’s Hogwarts: A History, which felt like it weighed about a ton, hovered shakily in the air. This was so much more difficult than a pillow. He lost concentration just for a moment, and to his horror, the book fell like a brick hitting the floor of his room. Cripes! He ran toward to the fallen tome, and hoped upon hope that the book wasn’t injured in any way. Harry chuckled; he was starting to sound like Hermione. “Injured” was how she would have referred to a fallen book. A month ago, Harry wouldn’t have given it a second thought at all – a book was a book. They were dastardly and daunting; mocking him and Ron at every turn and in every subject. Ron, he sighed to himself, a feeling of despair running through him. When had things become so complicated? Oh, that’s right, _they’d_ always been complicated.  
  
Hermione had said that Ron was jealous. Jealous! Who in their right mind would be jealous of him? He was going to have to face a dragon, for Merlin’s sake. Face a dragon alone. No Hermione, no Sirius, no Ron… no one, just him. Not that Ron had been any help since the beginning of this fiasco, the royal bloody git. Where did he get off thinking Harry was a liar? Why had Ron lost faith in him? Where was the loyalty? Harry snorted. It looked as if Ron didn’t even understand the meaning of the word.  
  
Harry knew loyalty wasn’t given blindly, but hadn’t Hermione given him her loyalty without question? Hadn’t she stood by him brave as brass, ignoring the glares, the whispered accusations? She’d been with him every step of the way, oblivious to the fact that associating with him was as much the kiss of death as a Dementor’s. He was every bit as loved and revered as he had been during second year when everyone had thought he was the Heir of Slytherin. Not that it really bothered him much. People could hate him all they wanted, as long as he had ‘Mione he was fine with it, as long as he had her, he was safe.  
  
Hermione had left about an hour ago to tutor Diggory, leaving him to practice on his own. Harry screwed his face up at the memory. It wasn’t fair! Harry had been outraged when she’d pocketed her own wand and informed him that she had to go. Harry’s head had spun around so fast that he heard a crack. He knew she had been tutoring his rival and certainly hadn’t been pleased about it. But when he’d opened his mouth to complain the look on her face had him closing it again. He was well acquainted with that look, the look that said, don’t even try it. There was a time to push an issue, and a time to let it lie and when Hermione crossed her arms across her chest, frowned until there was a slight depression between her brows, and began tapping her foot… well they were sure signs of letting it go and woe-be to those who pushed it.   
  
Harry couldn’t help it, he couldn’t stand Diggory! He was a lousy bloke, and yet Hermione still badgered Harry every other second about telling him about the dragons. Fat chance. He smirked. No way was he ‘fessing up to Diggory. Not even “the look” from Hermione was going to change his mind. Sure, she’d threatened to hex him but Harry had just grinned, which had infuriated Hermione, and told her what she already knew.  
  
“You won’t hex me, Hermione.” Harry spoke with a smugness that Hermione rarely witnessed. “You’d want me to be at my most tip-top shape for the task, so if you hex me all your hard work will be for nothing.”   
  
He continued along this vein, “If I’m weakened, it could affect my ability to fight off the dragon. Not only would you be responsible for the death of the Boy Who Lived, the only hope of ridding the wizarding world of a vicious despot, but your best friend as well,” He finished on a triumphant note.  
  
Hermione had whipped out her wand and for a split second, Harry thought he might have sent her over the edge and that she really would hex him. But to his enormous relief, her wand wavered almost immediately and with a gruff huff and a glare she had turned her back to him and stomped away muttering under her breath about inconsiderate louts. Harry was deaf to it all. He was basking in the glory of having bested Hermione in the one thing he was better than she in, although it was a win by the smallest of margins: being extraordinarily stubborn.  
  
Harry picked up the book, turning it this way and that, making sure it was as pristine as when Hermione had last thumbed through it, which just happened to have been last evening. He sighed in relief at finding it totally unharmed. His hand glided soothingly over the cover as he placed the book carefully on his nightstand. If she ever found out he’d filched it from the common room to work his spell on it, she might actually change her mind and hex him into oblivion.   
  
Books, Harry had discovered, were Hermione’s salvation. Friends, each and every one. Whilst Harry couldn’t quite wrap his head around the concept, he thought it might be sort of like the relationship he shared with his broom. He relished the pungent smell of the products he used to carefully clean and buff his beloved broom after each and every practice and game. The feel of the smooth wood beneath his hand gave him a sense of rightness, the feeling that it belonged there, as a piece of a missing puzzle. There was something magical about holding or riding his broom.   
  
He imagined that that must be how the books felt beneath her fingertips. It was also probably the reason she clutched them to her chest while walking to class instead of using her bag unless there were too many for her to carry. The scent of the parchment that filled the air around her each time she turned a page must be just as exciting to her as his broom was to him.   
  
Her books were as much of an extension of herself, an extra appendage so to speak, as his broom was to him. The only difference was hers was an extension of a fine mind and an avenue to knowledge, whilst his was of physical prowess and an avenue to the Wronski Feint. Harry realized, for the first time, that the two might differ exceedingly, but they weren’t mutually exclusive. They were equally as important in and to both their lives.  
  
  
Harry missed Ron immensely. Still, there was no way around the fact that the more time he spent away from Ron and his continuous griping about Hermione, the more he could see how wonderful and useful Hermione and her talents were. He had been as blind as the bat Snape resembled; he could admit the truth of it. He was determined to never take advantage of or ignore Hermione’s various and widespread talents again. _She_ was his hero.  
  
Harry retrieved his wand, determined to make Hermione proud, and began working on the summoning charm once more. This time, he didn’t use her book. In its stead, he placed a large shoebox filled with chocolate frogs, almost the same weight as Hermione’s book. Harry had taken it from beneath Ron’s bed. After all, Harry assured himself, Ron would eat his chocolate frogs whether they were broken into little pieces or not.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
Krum was definitely interested in Granger. His subtle overtures might be overlooked by others, but Cedric noticed them for what they were, and he was most determined to keep a close eye out. Sort of like an older brother. _Yeah_ , Cedric thought emphatically, _an older brother_. Cedric felt as if he had no other option as Potter was too busy eyeing Cho up to be of any use. Her other friend, that surly red-headed Weasley kid, was more often than not stuffing his face. He spent the majority of his time giving his dinner plate such absolute absorption as to rival Trelawney’s attention to her crystal ball. That being the case, Cedric felt it his duty not only as Granger’s study-partner but as Head Boy as well.   
  
Cedric had discovered through discreet questioning that Granger, like himself, was an only child. It was a notorious truth that only children were either spoiled beyond repair or uncommonly self-reliant. In almost all aspects, Granger appeared to be the latter. It was obvious she took her role as protector cum mother figure to Potter beyond seriously. Then there was her devotion to her studies and that organization S.P.I.T, S.P.A.T., something like that. Cedric scratched the back of his head. He couldn’t rightly remember the name, but it was some lost cause; those appeared to be Granger’s specialty. But as good as Granger was while in her element, Cedric seriously doubted that romance was a study in which she, at present, excelled.   
  
To all intents and purposes Krum looked to be taking it slow, taking into account Granger’s age and all, Cedric supposed. Personally, Cedric was of the opinion that Krum was far too old for her in age and experience, no matter how slow Krum intended to take it. So Cedric took it upon himself to linger in the library with Granger whenever Krum was in attendance, which was more often than Cedric was comfortable with.   
  
And as of late, Cedric found himself, absolutely by chance, taking the long way to some of his classes. Those, of which, just _happened_ to pass by Snape’s classroom while Krum just _happened_ to be standing outside the door whilst Granger just _happened_ to be having class at the same time. Well, Cedric assured himself, those things just _happened_ to happen.   
  
It was down right annoying that Cedric didn’t have a decent excuse nor the time to pause for a spare moment or two outside the classroom right alongside Krum. It would have been a great opportunity to do some subtle digging around to find out what Krum’s intentions were. The bloke was intimidating to be sure, but Granger was his responsibility and therefore all thoughts of his own safety were null and void.   
  
An idea struck him just as he passed Krum, his huge bulk resting against the wall. As Head Boy he could change the originally scheduled meeting times with the prefects around a bit if there were extenuating circumstances. That would give him more time to keep abreast of the situation. He’d be able to watch to see how things between Granger and Krum unfold on a more of a first-hand basis. Sure, it would be more than likely troublesome to some of the prefects but what was the point in being Head Boy if you couldn’t exert your authority every now and again? That way he’d have ample opportunity to take his time, loiter out in the halls a bit. Use the extra minutes or so to do his duty, as he saw it, to Granger.   
  
With a noticeable bounce added to his step and a considerably lighter heart, Cedric strolled down the corridor not even concerned that he was going to be, at the very least, fifteen minutes late for Transfigurations class. Ernie, who walked by him with a curious expression on his face, couldn’t help but wonder what in the world had put such a silly shite-eating grin on his fellow Hufflepuff’s face.  
  


 

* * *

  
  
Hermione thought it must be her imagination; it had to be. There was no way someone like Viktor Krum could actually be interested in her. Not that she was usually cognizant of such goings on; no one could accuse her of having much experience in that area. Yet, Hermione couldn’t help but notice certain odd instances.  
  
Like whenever she was running particularly late while in the library, he always offered to help her put the library books back. She hadn’t particularly taken note of it the first time he had offered. Since then it seemed as if he was right at her table the moment she stood up, books in hand. Hermione was exceedingly grateful for his assistance, especially when she lost track of time fitting in research for S.P.E.W between study sessions with Cedric and her own homework.  
  
Hermione was often unable to leave the library before it was due to close. Madame Pince, her thin face twisted in displeasure, would hover over her while tapping her foot in irritation. Viktor seemed untroubled by Madame Pince’s demeanour, taking his time with the books, ignoring the librarians’ glares. Hermione often wondered at his disregard for the time. Maybe they don’t close the library at Durmstrang. The thought of a not having a curfew on a place as wonderful as a library sent a thrill down Hermione’s spine. How wonderful would that be?  
  
Added to that, there were several incidents when he had been outside her Potions class in the drafty corridor, his broad shoulder leaning against the cold stone of the wall. The first few times it happened she’d thought he was there waiting to speak with Professor Snape. Perhaps he’d been bearing a message from the Headmaster of Durmstrang. Karkaroff and Snape looked as if they shared a past, so it would be on the up and up if Viktor were there to see Snape.   
  
But when Snape came and went with nary a glance between the two, she entertained the thought that he might even have been waiting for Malfoy. That thought sickened her, even though it was a natural assumption, considering the students from Durmstrang sat at the Slytherin table. It made sense, then, that Viktor would hang back if he was biding his time and only there to meet up with someone. But the hall would empty without Viktor saying a word to anyone who crossed the threshold. Instead, he would just glance in her direction and smile, his facial muscles looking stiff as if smiling were a new thing for him, and then with a swish of his red cape, he would turn and walk in the opposite direction.   
  
Still, Krum never actually approached her. With that in mind, she naturally came to the conclusion that Viktor’s attentions were imaginary. If they weren’t, wouldn’t he have offered to walk her to her next class or back to the Gryffindor common room or something along those lines? That’s what Justin did with Parvati after her classes. From what Hermione had observed, it seemed that was practically a necessity as part of the mating ritual between males and females.   
  
Hermione reminded herself once more that she was no expert on such things and so her thoughts on this subject were bound to be faulty. So, when Krum did approach while she was exiting the portrait of her common room, she was more than surprised.  
  
“Herm-o-ninny, may I speak vit you?”  
  
Hermione blinked twice. “Um, sure.” She hoped she didn’t look as frazzled as she felt.   
  
Viktor opened his mouth, not quite meeting her inquisitive gaze, before his eyes flashed up to look directly into her own. The intensity she saw in those dark, dark eyes was astonishing.   
  
“Ven vee are in the library,” he said the words slowly doing his best to get the correct pronunciation down. “I see you vit Dig-o-ree.” Hermione nodded. “You see him?”  
  
Now Hermione was incredibly baffled. “Uh, yeah,” she agreed. “Several times a week.”   
  
Viktor broke out into a litany of what she could only assume was Bulgarian as she didn’t understand a single word. He looked slightly harassed. In a quiet but intense voice, Viktor spoke again.  
  
“No, you do not understand. I ask if you together?” He emphasized his words by crossing a finger one over the other and raising them eye-level. “Together.” He stated firmly.  
  
Hermione’s mouth formed a wide O. To say that she was nonplussed would have been a vast understatement. Did Viktor Krum actually just ask her if Cedric and she were _dating_? Cedric, as in Cedric Diggory?!  
  
Viktor was staring at her in silence; she could feel an uneasy tension in the atmosphere. Was he nervous? Of her? How strange.   
  
She watched him closely as she answered, “No,” She couldn’t help but grin at the absurdity of the suggestion of her and Cedric dating; it was laughable. “I’m tutoring him.”   
  
Her answer seemed to cause him immeasurable relief. His dark eyes warmed several degrees, a grin of his own splashing across his craggy features. Leaning forward he proclaimed, “Dat is good, very good.”  
  
There was no doubting the sincerity of his words and once again, Hermione was dumbstruck. Why was it good news? It was all the more confusing especially when he clicked his booted heels together, sketched a slight bow, and held out a package.  
  
Shifting her bag higher up onto her shoulder, she stared at it. She couldn’t help but notice that Viktor’s hand was so large that it covered almost the entire box. It was oblong shaped and was beautifully wrapped in iridescent colours of red and black.   
  
“Thank you,” Hermione whispered, reaching out to grasp the box. It slid slowly from between Viktor’s fingers and just as she was about to pull it from him completely, he held onto the final rounded off edge. Startled, Hermione glanced quickly up at him. There was a teasing quirk to his lips and a laughing sparkle in his eyes. Hermione blushed to the roots of her brown, frizzy hair. She wasn’t sure what she should do next so after bobbing her head, she clutched her gift to her chest and rushed down the corridor with Viktor’s deep baritone laugh following her all the way.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviews are a treat.


	7. Clandestine Assignations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione meets secretly (or so she thinks) with Viktor who is _not_ happy that Hermione wants to keep their relationship under wraps for the time being.

 

**Chapter Seven**

 

“Blast and double damn blast!”

Granger had cancelled yet _another_ study session, and Cedric knew the exact reasoning behind the cancellation. One Viktor Krum, Durmstrang’s Goblet of Fire Champion, World Famous Seeker, and Secret Boyfriend of Hermione Jane Granger; student tutor extraordinaire.

Okay, Cedric admitted to himself, maybe boyfriend was the wrong word. They hadn’t gone public, not yet anyway. But it was only a matter of time and when they did, ruckus wouldn’t even come close to the dust that little announcement would kick up after all and sundry got over the shock such news would elicit.

It was with inexorable accuracy that Cedric acknowledged that the vast majority of people had a tendency to overlook Granger and her understated looks in favor of her more overt exceptional intellect. Cedric, however, through steady exposure to Granger’s company, had no problem noting her subtle allure.

Her hair, though bushy bordering on frizzy, was a mass of luxurious curls when she piled it on top of her head and held it securely in place with Muggle writing implements she called pencils. He’d asked her once why she didn’t use a spell or even the pretty combs that other girls seemed to favor. Cho would use chopstick-like sticks with tiny crystals in all different colors that sparkled under the light whenever she moved her head.

Granger shrugged and answered simply, “I don’t have anything like that,” she continued, “and pencils are easier to work with; clips can be tricky business, and I really think it’s silly to use magic on something so trivial.”

That had certainly sounded like a typical no-nonsense Granger response, but she was a girl, for Merlin’s sake, she had to have some sort of girlish things. Cedric was determined to find out what they were, and though he was diligent, watching Granger religiously to see if she had any kept out of sight, he couldn’t find them. No lipstick or eyeliner hiding out in her bag. He couldn’t detect any type of perfume coming off of her body other than the sweet strawberry smell of her shampoo and occasionally he would catch a whiff of vanilla whenever she’d sit close to him. It wasn’t exotic, and it wasn’t mysterious; it was a light, clean, natural scent. A more than welcome change from the overpowering, heavy, noxious fumes that generally blanketed most girls, often several feet in front and behind them. But for all of his detective work he had found nothing, absolutely nothing; Hermione Granger was Hermione Granger through and through with no artifice whatsoever, and Cedric found that he liked that a lot.

Cedric threw down his quill with a frustrated sigh, hating that he had been thinking about Granger when he should have been working on a flight strategy for his Quidditch team. Hannah, Zach, and Scott, along with the rest of the them were counting on him, their captain, to come up with well-thought out tactics utilizing each team members strengths. The Slytherin team would be looking for holes in Hufflepuff’s team plan _and_ using every dirty trick in the book, filthy cheaters that they were.

Yet, even with his team’s fate resting in the palms of his hands, Cedric’s thoughts were focused on Granger… again! What the hell was up with that? Why was his concentration completely shattered whenever he thought about a certain 5’3, ordinary in every way conceivable, freckled–covered, pert-nosed girl with an unremarkable figure? Not that he ever got the chance to see her body; it was always shrouded in those long, baggy robes she wore, but she had nice knees if he remembered correctly. That aside, why she lingered in his brain was a conundrum.

Cho was another issue entirely. Cripes! She had every right to bitch about his inattentiveness. Hell, he was inattentive to everything but his studies and even then, it was difficult to stay on task at times. Granger seemed to be having the same problem. He’d catch her staring off into space, no doubt imagining Krum sitting next to her instead of him, which annoyed Cedric to no end. She was supposed to be tutoring _him_ , not fantasizing about some overgrown, pumpkin-head with an IQ in the lower double digits.

Cedric’s face twisted in distaste. What did Granger see in him? He was famous and probably had money, but other than that, was there really anything else of note?

The bloke was more than likely well acquainted with the Dark Arts and the Unforgivables. Durmstrang wasn’t exactly noted for turning out fine and upstanding citizens. He had probably already practiced those abhorrent spells on defenseless animals. Outraged filled Cedric at the idea. That dirty, low-down bastard! And his poor deluded Granger had been taken in by Krum, like some type of common quidditch groupie. Another wave of outrage swept over him. Granger wasn’t even remotely like the other twittering females who followed Krum about, Cedric was sure of it. The Granger he’d come to know would never allow herself to be used; she was smarter than that.

Still, there was no denying that she had, once more, altered their tutoring timetable to no doubt spend time with that dunderhead. Cedric pounded his clenched fist on the table so hard that the ink well fell and spilled over onto its side staining the parchment black. Shite!

 

* * *

 

Hermione was nervous, _really_ nervous. Viktor had sent a note to her via one of his fellow students to meet him near the painting of the bowl of fruit. Hermione fidgeted nervously. It was open here, so anyone could walk down the corridor and see them, and she just wasn’t ready for anyone, not even Harry, to know about her and Viktor yet.

Hermione had hugged her secret close to her chest, just as she had the gift that Viktor had given her two weeks ago. It was hers and hers alone, and she didn’t want to share it with anyone. Who would have believed it anyway? Now, here she was, waiting for Viktor in an oh-so-very public place. She had been meeting him regularly in out-of-the-way places, places that very few, if any, students frequented. At first he hadn’t minded, but she knew he was getting frustrated by the subterfuge. He had questioned her about her reasoning on it yesterday.

“Are you ah-shamed ov me?” He had asked, concern lacing his deep voice.

Hermione had done a double take, stunned into silence before stating forcefully, “No! Of course not! I… it’s just, it’s private. Something special for just you and me.”

He had smiled then, gently taking her hand and kissing the fingertips lightly, whispering, “As you vish. But soon vee must, as you say… come clean, yes?”

Blushing, Hermione had nodded, though she was still uncertain about announcing their relationship. What would people think? How would Harry and Ron react? Their opinions were the two that mattered the most to her, and she was still debating on whether or not she should tell them before they found out from someone else. That’s what she knew she should do; she’d certainly be extremely hurt if the positions were reversed.

The sharp staccato of footsteps drew her attention; looking over her shoulder, Hermione was thrilled to see that Viktor, upon catching sight of her, picked up his pace, obviously in a hurry to greet her. She answered his wide grin with one of her own, turning to face him completely when he reached her side. He placed his hands on her shoulders firmly but with great care and bent down to lightly touch her lips with his own. He was such a sweet man, gentle and kind. Hermione was girly enough to be flattered that out of all of the beautiful girls in the castle, she who had somehow garnered his time and attention.

After she had gone to thank him for her gift, she had haltingly and with an incoherence that was new to her, asked him why he wanted to see her. He had angled his head to the side, frowning as if confused by her query, and said, “I vatch you, you have varm heart; giv-eng.” He had hesitated before continuing. “I do not know much ov such things, not see much ov it,” he had finished, obviously embarrassed by this admission.

Hermione, touched to tears, thought she would melt into a puddle right there on the spot. Instead, she threw her arms around him and buried her face in his robes; the fur tickled her nose, almost making her sneeze, but she didn’t care. And that had been the beginning of Hermione Granger’s romance with Viktor Krum.

Now here she was, being held as if she were a delicate piece of the finest china, by a man who instilled fear in others in just about every other avenue of his life and it was a wonderful sensation. Wonderful to be admired, wonderful to be cared for, wonderful to see the look of wonder in his eyes every time they were together. It was wonderful… just wonderful!

“I ave missed you, dear von,” he said, hugging her close.

She loved the woodsy, crisp air smell of his clothes, and she burrowed deeper into his chest. A few moments later, he cupped the back of her head and turned it to the side, her cheek resting against the hard planes of his chest. He situated her so that he could look down into her face and she knew he was going to kiss her again.

“We should move into the alcove, Viktor.” Hermione suggested quietly.

He frowned, his warm eyes becoming steadily cooler. Hermione felt his arms stiffen around her and she could see that he was pulling away from her emotionally, if not physically.

“Alvays vith the secrets! Vy?!” Viktor demanded angrily “I do not un-der-stand!”

Cedric, who just _happened_ to be hovering on the staircase leading down to the corridor that led to the Hufflepuff common room, was mighty interested in Granger’s response, too. He hadn’t purposefully snuck up on them, like just about everything else concerning Granger; it had just happened.

But who, Cedric wondered, in their bloody right mind would ever establish a public hallway as a scene for a secret assignation?! He shook his head, bewildered. Then an idea suddenly struck him. What if it hadn’t been an accident or oversight? What if… what if they were supposed to get discovered by someone? Could this be a set up on Krum’s part to out his relationship with Granger? It seemed quite possible to Cedric.

Smoothing the lapel of Krum’s blood-red cape, Hermione tried to explain, “It’s complicated Viktor. I’m not sure how to... I’m already swamped with so much, and I just don’t need this on top of it.”

Cedric couldn’t see anything, so he wasn’t sure what was happening. Very curious, he pressed his ear as close to the edge of the doorway as humanly possible, hoping it make the conversation clearer. What he wouldn’t give for one of the Weasley twins’ extendable ear apparatuses right now; he’d have to invest in one soon.

Hermione was disheartened by the stony look on Viktor’s face, so unlike the soft sweetness she had become accustomed to.

“S-vomp-ed? Vat is this vord? The meaning?”

“It means to be overwhelmed, have too much happening. Oh, I don’t know!” Hermione finished in exasperation.

Cedric could hear Viktor making a tsking sort of sound, and when he spoke again, it was low and deep. Cedric silently cursed the fact that he couldn’t see through walls.

“I see, too much… yes, I un-der-stand.”

Gripping his upper arms, Hermione let out a relieved breath, “Thank you, Viktor, thank you!”

Taking her face between his strong, calloused hands, Viktor stated in a tone that brooked no argument, “But at ball vee vill be hon-est, no more hid-eng. Promise me Herm-o-ninny, promise me.”

Cedric winced. Wow, he thought, Krum sure knew how to butcher a name. Still, Granger wasn’t complaining, so it shouldn’t bother him. But Cedric couldn’t help but think it was a shame that such a pretty and unusual name was ruined by Krum’s inept tongue.

Cedric waited but heard no more from the couple and wondered if they’d wandered further down the corridor. Encouraged by the silence, he popped his head around the corner and was relieved to find it empty. Feeling confident, he quietly stepped out into the entrance of archway. He’d taken only a few steps before he heard a muffled moan. Instinctively, he turned toward the noise, but what he saw made him wish he hadn’t. Krum had Granger pushed into a dark corner of an alcove, and they were kissing passionately.

For a split second, Cedric wondered if Granger was willing or if she was being held there against her will. After all, Krum was a good deal taller, stronger, and outweighed her by a considerable amount. That thought was dispelled almost immediately when the girl in question brought her hands up and fisted them tightly into Krum’s hair. Krum gave another appreciative moan when _she_ reversed their positions and forcefully pushed him further back against the wall. Yeah, Cedric thought sardonically, the poor dear was really fighting him off, desperate to get away, in fact.

Disgusted, Cedric left as quietly as possible. Not that the couple snogging each other senseless would have noticed. Oh no, Hermione was too busy finding out whether or not Krum’s tongue was as inept at kissing as it was at talking. Cedric, disheartened by the entire scene, doubted that that was the case. 

* * *


	8. Quidditch Quarrels

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cedric's team mates wonder where the hell their captain's head is, cause it sure ain't in the game.
> 
> Cho's had enough of being ignored by Cedric and sets out to ensure that he stays right where she thinks he should be... with _her_.
> 
> Hermione is determined to tell Cedric about that the First Task of the Tournament involves dragons.

 

**Chapter Eight**

Susan tried not to scowl as Cedric went on and on about the team’s ‘atrocious inability to follow simple flight patterns and tactical maneuvers’. Maneuvers that Cedric claimed would ruin the Slytherins’ concentration and have them flying around chasing their own broomsticks, perpetuating a win easily enough. How barmy could a bloke be, she wondered.   
  
The parchments he had rolled out for them had been filled with confusing squiggles, ink splotches and indecipherable gobbly-gook that had everyone eyeing each other in bewilderment. They gave it a go anyway. He was their team captain and hadn’t led them astray so far. It would stand to reason that he, at least, knew what he was doing, and they would do their best to follow his lead. What a joke, Susan scoffed silently. Cedric hadn’t had the vaguest notion of his own game plan! All they had to show for their doltish exhibition was two injured players and a large dose of excruciating embarrassment.   
  
The Slytherin beaters had apparently been perfecting the Doublebeater Defense combined with the Bludger Backbeat, which resulted in one of their teammates being in the hospital wing with a concussion. Ernie was lucky his brains hadn’t been splattered all over the pitch. Thankfully, he had seen it coming and had been able to dodge just enough so that he was hit to the side of his head and not face-on as had been the original intent.   
  
Hannah, their other injured teammate, was lying in a bed next to Ernie’s, having the bones in her right leg and arm repaired. They had been crushed when two Slytherins had banded together to perform an illegal blatching tag-team, sending her straight into the Ravenclaw stands. No one had even called them on the move, a fact which had the Slytherins smirking for the rest of the game. Must be nice, Susan thought in disgust, to have your Head of House refereeing the game.   
  
Susan bit her lip as she thought about Hannah lying incapacitated in the Hospital Wing. She could well recall how painful it was to have the bones being knitted together by one of Madame Pomfrey’s potions; it usually didn’t take long to fix, but damn, it hurt.   
  
She was tired – they all were – and she just wanted to pull off her sweat-soaked uniform that was sticking uncomfortably to her and shower away the dirt and grime – not to mention the memory of the Slytherin’s jubilant cries of their unfairly won victory.   
  
“Ced,” Susan, who’d had more than enough, interrupted Cedric’s tirade. “Give it a rest already.”  
  
Cedric, looking nearly apoplectic, exploded. “Give it a rest? _Give it a rest_?! Do you think those fuckers,” he pointed in the direction of the Slytherins’ locker room, “are in there giving it a rest?” When no one answered, he bellowed, “Well, do you?  
  
  
“No, they’re not,” he exclaimed, answering his own question. “They’re in there jumping up and down, slapping each other on the back, congratulating each other on their great and glorious win; that’s what they’re fucking doing! And us? What are we doing? We’re in here with our thumbs stuck up our arses trying to justify why those worthless excuse for Quidditch players just killed us out there!”  
  
“Bloody bogies, Ced!” Scott cried out angrily. “Let’s get down to it, shall we?”   
  
Susan felt Cadwallader jump a bit on the bench next to her. Scott sounded as furious as their captain did. She winced internally. This was _not_ going to be pretty. Scott was known for his unpredictable temper and when poked – like any badger – would fight back ferociously.   
  
“The reason we had our arses kicked from one end of the pitch to the other was _you_.” Cedric sputtered but before he could reply, Scott continued, “Where in Merlin’s beard did you come up with this shite?” he demanded, snatching up the parchments and crunching them in his fist. “I never saw such useless drivel in my life. It’s no one’s fault but your own, and you well know it.” Scott threw the crumpled papers on the floor.  
  
There was a momentary stunned silence. Okay, so maybe Scott was on to something here, but did he really have to _attack_ their captain? And in front of the entire team? Cedric had always been receptive to constructive criticism and alternative ideas when they were given respectfully; he wasn’t one to take things personally. On more than one occasion, Susan herself had requested a meeting with him, requests Cedric never failed to honor. He’d always thought of the team first and foremost and Cedric always made sure they knew it too. Which was why Susan was wary of the icy glint in Cedric’s eyes. It did not bode well for Scott, nor did the fascinating tick which seemed to have settled into the groove next to Cedric’s mouth. Nope, not good at all.   
  
Her fears were realized when Cedric ordered with grim intensity, “You can take your fucking equipment and get the hell out of here.”   
  
She heard Cadwallader ask beneath his breath, “What the hell?”  
  
And he wasn’t the only one. The rest of the occupants of the locker room were muttering angrily, shifting uncomfortably, and no doubt wishing they were somewhere else, just as she was. She couldn’t recall Ced and Scott ever having a serious falling out before. Now here they were facing off, looking as if they were about to pound one another into the ground.   
  
“Off the team, am I?” Scott demanded through gritted teeth.  
  
With a brief nod Cedric said with a sneer, “Your powers of perception in _this_ instance are astonishingly well–tuned.” Adding insult to injury, he continued, “Where were they when we needed them during the game?”   
  
Scott ripped off his helmet and gloves throwing them on the floor to land beside the discarded, poor excuse for a game plan. Susan gasped when Cedric did the same.   
  
Balling his hands into tight fists, Scott snarled, “Fine, but someone really ought to teach you a lesson.”   
  
Raising an eyebrow in disdain, Cedric asked mockingly, “Wands at dawn?” Turning toward the bench where the rest of the team sat, he suggested with a sardonic twist to his lips, “How ’bout it, Melvin, wanna be my second?”  
  
Poor Melvin gulped and sank down in an attempt to make him self look invisible. Who could blame him? This was a Cedric they had never witnessed before and to be honest, Melvin wasn’t alone. Just about all of them hunkered down and managed to vacillate between looking distraught and mightily confused.   
  
“You are a right bloody bastard, Diggory!” Susan winced at the usage of Cedric’s surname. That sort of thing was only done when you didn’t know someone well enough – or like them enough – to use their given name. “I don’t need a wand to beat the blazes out of you!”  
  
Sounding bored, Cedric replied, “Is that a threat?”  
  
“Damn straight, you smug arse.”  
  
Cedric jerked the fingers of his raised hand toward himself and said with eager anticipation, “Bring it, you lousy berk.”   
  
Scott advanced on Cedric, who crouched into a defensive position. They were relatively the same height and weight, so in essence they were evenly matched. But there was no denying that Scott was broader across the chest and shoulders, down his entire body actually. Cedric, on the other hand, had a swimmer’s build. Wide across the shoulders like his opponent but slimmer in the hips, he had an elegant form and beside Scott, who was beefier, it sure didn’t look as evenly matched as what it really was. They both had deadly determination written all over their faces. Susan was appalled by the actions of these former best mates and wished fervently that someone, _anyone_ would intervene.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
Hermione didn’t know much about Quidditch but she could tell when people were flying round in circles with absolutely no clue on where they were going or where they were supposed to be. The image of Cedric shouting and yelling, doing his best to rally the team, trying to pull everything together, had been almost painful to witness. Unfortunately, all of his efforts ended up being pointless; there had been no way to salvage the downward spiral of Hufflepuff’s luckless team.   
  
Harry, on the other hand, didn’t seem to mind in the least that Slytherin had totally squashed their opposition. In fact, he was looking downright happy about it.   
  
Hermione could have clobbered him when he said, “I knew Dopey Diggory would ruin that team eventually.” Not noticing her glare he added, “Did you see Cho’s face?” Hermione hadn’t, she had better things to look at than that little bint. “It was priceless! I bet Diggory won’t be swaggering about anytime soon.”  
  
“Harry.” She cut through his gleeful ramblings, saying in a short tone, “Shut it.”  
  
“Why?” he asked, genuinely confused. Sounding envious, Harry continued, “Diggory’s been living the high life. Always does good in school, is popular with the blokes and the girls, never does anything wrong. He’s bloody perfect! Did you notice that?”  
  
Hermione shook her head, “No, Harry, I haven’t and that’s because no one leads a perfect existence, not even Diggory.”  
  
“Jeez, Hermione,” Harry griped, “can’t you just let me gloat a little?”  
  
Hermione stopped walking before stating clearly and more emphatically, “That would be another big no. Besides, since when do you gloat about Slytherin winning, huh? In the past you’ve moaned and griped about how horrendously the Slytherins have cheated when you’ve played against them. Now you’re suddenly championing them?” Sounding an awful lot like Mrs. Weasley, Hermione finished, “You ought to be ashamed of yourself, Harry! I know I sure am.”   
  
Harry’s face turned a brilliant crimson, and Hermione knew that Harry’s ramblings had more to do with a certain Ravenclaw than anything else. Still, Hermione thought it was sick that Harry would rather have his nemesis’ team win a lousy game just to spite Cedric and make him look bad in front of Cho. Harry was not normally vindictive by nature, and his present attitude left a nasty taste in the back of Hermione’s mouth.   
  
Harry was busy wishing Ron were here. Ron would have understood where he was coming from. It was a guy thing. Hermione understood plenty, but guy stuff she just didn’t get. And that was okay, Harry thought, because she was a girl and just like boys didn’t get girl things, girls didn’t get guy stuff either. Ron would have crowed right along with him about Diggory and how he’d fallen flat on his face, figuratively anyway.   
  
Harry scuffed the toe of his shoe on the ground. Ron was probably with Seamus right now, trading wizarding cards or playing chess. Sitting in the chair opposite Ron – where he used to sit – and getting beaten rotten because if there was one thing Ron was good at, it was chess.   
  
“I’m going to tell him.”  
  
Harry gave a slight jump. Tell him? Him who? And what was she planning on telling him?  
  
Hermione clicked her tongue. “Cedric. I’m going to tell Cedric,” she elaborated with a defiant look on her face.  
  
“About the dragons!?” Harry nearly bellowed.   
  
Hermione looked quickly around. “Shhh… good grief, Harry, no one’s supposed know that you know! You could get disqualified if anyone finds out you’ve had help.”  
  
Harry rolled his eyes. Hermione Granger – drama queen. “In case you haven’t heard, everyone’s had help; they’d have to disqualify all of us.”  
  
Hermione smirked before reminding him, “Not everyone. Cedric would win the tournament by default. He’d be a hero, and you’d be the cheater everyone already thinks you are.”  
  
He hated that she sounded so smug and really hated it that she had a good point. Besides, Harry had reached the point that if he had to participate in this tournament, then he really did want to win on his own merit. He hadn’t wanted this dubious honor – not that many people had believed him – and he was scared rotten, but now that it was a done deal, he might as well give it his best shot.  
  
Hermione tried to push the flash of guilt aside, but it was difficult. She hadn’t really had any intention on accidentally letting it slip that the Champions had all had help with the exception of Cedric. She was just using it as a bargaining chip. It was true that she didn’t want to get Harry disqualified, but she didn’t want Viktor to get into trouble either.  
  
“When you gonna tell him?” Harry asked  
  
“Tonight or maybe tomorrow,” she answered firmly. “That should give him enough time to work on a way to deal with the dragon. He should have been told long ago,” she added reproachfully.  
  
Harry refused to be guilt-tripped and merely nodded. He knew he should have told Diggory; he just hadn’t wanted to give him yet another advantage. If he had to be honest he could admit to himself that Cho was a major reason why he hadn’t wanted to let Diggory in on the dragons. He was almost positive that Hermione had come to the same conclusion about his reasons, but she kept her thoughts on Cho to herself.   
  
Harry stifled a grin. Keeping her opinions to herself on the more-than-pretty Ravenclaw must have been killing Hermione. He sighed. Yes, Cho was beautiful and so unattainable that it hurt. Sure she sent him a friendly glances or a smile occasionally, and those small hints of possible interest had thrilled Harry, but Harry wasn’t blind to his own less than considerable charms.   
  
He was short, a good five or more inches below Diggory’s much envied 6’1”. It was little comfort to Harry that his own shorter stature was much more conducive to that of a seeker. Harry sighed in despair. The fact that he would, more than likely, be shorter than average for the remainder of his existence preyed on Harry’s mind. Hermione would have thought him silly had she’d known, so he’d never mentioned it.   
  
If that wasn’t demoralizing enough, there was his other less than imposing physical attributes. Being short wouldn’t have been so awful if the rest of him had filled out a bit. Seamus was about his size minus the scrawny frame. “Robust” was the word Seamus had used to describe himself. Ron had had another word for it – fat. In Harry’s opinion robust seemed to be the more accurate description as far as Seamus went. ’Course, Harry’d had the dubious pleasure of seeing fat masquerading as his cousin Dudley for years and Seamus didn’t fall into that type of fat category.   
  
Harry unconsciously reached up to smooth down his worse than bed-head hair. Yet another strike against him in the looks department, he thought dismally. He’d seen pictures of his dad, and while his hair had been just as bad, he’d sported his loopy locks with a proud, cocky grin. Harry wished he had the same type of self-confidence   
  
“I have a study session with Cedric this evening.” Hermione stated. “I’ll tell him then.” Chewing her lip in consternation, she continued. “I’m just not sure I want to tell him in the library. It’s a bit too public for this sort of disclosure.”  
  
Scratching his nose, Harry agreed. “Yeah, well, maybe you shouldn’t.”  
  
“I _am_ telling him, Harry.”  
  
“Keep your britches on, Hermione.” He attempted to sooth her. “I’m not trying to talk you out of it.” Now that he was certain she was going to stick to her guns, there was no point in trying. “I just meant maybe you should wait a bit. I mean really, could one more day make that much of a difference?”   
  
Hermione mulled it over. Maybe waiting would be a good idea. Cedric hadn’t exactly looked to be in a receptive frame of mind after the game and while she didn’t know Cedric well, she did know from experience with Harry that a lost Quidditch game led to some serious brooding. Losing so horribly was followed by hours of the stuff. But, losing horribly to Slytherin? Well, that often led to Harry’s mood being sour for _days_ afterward.   
  
“I see your point.” Hermione agreed. “He looked pretty miserable, didn’t he?”  
  
“No one likes to lose, Hermione.” Harry reminded her, sounding a tad like the know-it-all she’d always being accused of being and wondered – when it _was_ her – if everyone else felt this annoyed by that particular tone. Probably, she reasoned grudgingly. No one wanted to lose; certainly. But no one wanted feel as if they were being talked down to either. It was a real eye-opener and Hermione resolved to pay more attention to what came out of her mouth and how it sounded. Harry wasn’t the only one gaining from the extra time they were spending together.   
  
“I don’t know,” Hermione mumbled, troubled by the idea of waiting before anymore valuable time elapsed before telling Cedric about the first task. “Perhaps this will cheer him up.” She added hopefully, her face lighting up at the possibility of making Cedric’s day brighter. The poor guy had seemed completely and utterly devastated.  
  
Harry grimaced. Yeah, right, he thought, like that was going to happen but dutifully replied, “Could be.”  
  
Hermione frowned at the lack of conviction in Harry’s answer. “Well, I’ve got nothing to lose, right?”  
  
Harry shrugged. His guess was that Diggory’s mood was going to be foul and very little was going to change that. Now that he thought about it, Harry wondered if Hermione might not make the situation worse.   
  
“I don’t know.” Harry answered slowly, voicing his concerns. “Could be he might get even more mad. Did you think of that?”  
  
She hadn’t. And by the expression on her face she disagreed with his assessment of the situation. Girls might be a huge mystery with their baffling ways, but Harry did _know_ blokes and their likely reactions to certain situations.   
  
“Do what you want, Hermione.” Harry answered, knowing full well she would regardless of his opinion.  
  
“It’s settled, then.” Hermione pronounced, sounding relieved.  
  
It had been tiring keeping this from Cedric – the guilt she felt by her omission had only worsened as she had gotten to know him better through their study sessions. He wasn’t full of himself or boastful and she really liked that about him. Now he would _finally_ know the truth. So, of course she felt relief; she had absolutely no personal stake involved; none… absolutely none whatsoever.  
  


 

* * *

  
  
“Is it true?” Cho demanded, accosting Susan as she left Binns’ class.  
  
Frowning at Cho, who had grabbed her with an iron grip, Susan asked, “Is what true?” Even though she knew exactly what Cho was running on about.   
  
She didn’t like Cedric’s girlfriend but tried to keep that under wraps out of respect to House ties to him. It just wasn’t done, trashing a housemate’s – not to mention the Head Boy’s – girl. Badgers stuck together, no matter how distasteful it was.   
  
Looking down her nose at Susan, Cho snapped, “You know very well what I’m referring to. Don’t play stupid with me.” Y _ou jealous cow_.  
  
“You mean the incident in the locker room?” Susan asked, pulling her arm free. _What a bitch_!  
  
Narrowing her onyx-colored eyes, Cho said, “Yes.” _So your aunt works at the Wizengamot, big bloody deal_.  
  
  
Susan hesitated; she really didn’t want to relay the details to anyone, but since Cho was Cedric’s girlfriend, she supposed Cho ought to know the truth of the matter. But still Susan kept her mouth shut. Why hadn’t Cedric filled her in?   
  
“I’d prefer it if you’d ask Cedric.” Susan finally told Cho. “It’s his story to tell, not mine.” _Nasty bint_.  
  
Placing her hands on her hips Cho, “Oh, _you’d_ prefer?” _Oh yes, I’d just bet you’d prefer it fine if Cedric dumped me and took up with you. Fat, fucking chance_.  
  
Susan’s brows pulled into a fierce frown. “That’s right.” How could Cedric have settled for this daftie bike? It boggled the mind. “It’s his business. Now… step aside, you’re making me late for Potions.” The last was said in a superior tone and tilt of Susan’s head and as Susan was the taller of the two, it was even more effective. _Shove that up your too tight arse, you selfish harpy_.   
  
The outraged and stunned look on Cho’s face at the treatment delivered by the younger girl – a treatment that Cho had often handed out and very rarely was the recipient of – had Susan all but skipping down the hall, a gleeful grin splashed across her face. Not even being ensconced in the dank and dreary dungeon for Snape’s class could diminish the warm, toasty feeling that lingered for the remainder of the day.  
  
Seething at Susan’s dismissal, Cho set out to find someone else from Hufflepuff’s team. It was humiliating and having to do so made her more annoyed than she already was. Where was Cedric? Blast and damn, she shouldn’t have to ferret out this information from someone else! She considered giving it up and waiting for him to come to her but decided against it. She wasn’t the type to sit back and let things come to her; it wasn’t her nature. If it had been, she’d still be waiting for Cedric to make the first move on her. Oh, he thought it had been his choice from the get-go, but it had been her carefully thought out plan and machinations that had gotten her where she was today, exactly where she wanted to be, by Cedric’s side.   
  
Not that she particularly wanted to be associated with him right now. Merlin, what a mess he’d made of yesterday’s game! Never in the time that she’d been playing – or watching – quidditch had she’d seen something so incredibly awful. Where the hell was his head?! The Cedric she knew wouldn’t have been so daft. Surely there was a perfectly good explanation behind it. Perhaps he’d been ill or something of that sort because it had defied nature how badly they’d played.   
  
She’d made herself scarce after the game, embarrassed that it had been her boyfriend who had been the ruination of it all. She hadn’t intended to avoid him _all_ evening, it had just sort of worked out that way. Now she wondered if he hadn’t, in fact, been avoiding her too. Usually they met up at the Astronomy Tower for some time alone together, but he hadn’t been there later that night. She’d even gone to his Head Boy quarters, but either he hadn’t been there or he wasn’t answering the door. And then he’d been conspicuously absent at breakfast that morning. That was where she’d heard the first few whispered reports on the argument that had apparently taken place in the Hufflepuff locker room.  
  
She’d only found that much out by eavesdropping on the conversation between two third years from Cedric’s house. No surprise there really, Hufflepuffs were notoriously tight-lipped when it came to each other, but she had still thought that her position as Cedric’s girlfriend would have afforded her immediate access to all Cedric’s goings-on and whereabouts. She was sadly mistaken.   
  
Off in the distance she could just make out Justin walking along side Patricia Stimpson. Perfect! Here was hope. Justin could be easily manipulated, and if only he’d been alone things would have been perfect. What Cho’s dorm mate saw in Justin was a mystery. He was fourteen for Merlin’s sake! Wait a minute, he was fifteen; that’s right, he’d had a birthday right after term started. Still, to consider dating someone in a younger year defied logic as far as she was concerned. Then she thought of Harry. He _really_ was fourteen, and she’d be a liar if she denied that she had thought about him as a potential boyfriend a few times. It was obvious he was smitten.  
  
Running her hand through her black, silky locks as she hurried after Justin and Patty’s retreating figures, she knew without too much conceit that she was one of the best looking girls at Hogwarts. So of course, Harry would be smitten. She could probably land any boy she wanted, and although Harry was a bit awkward and not a patch on Cedric as far as looks went, he was sweet in his silent adoration.   
  
Cho didn’t carry a soft spot for many people, but Harry was one of those spots. The added benefit was that Harry was also a spot to Cedric too, a sore spot. And sore spots could always be prodded a bit. Fact was, Cedric had never really noticed Harry much at all until he was picked as the fourth champion by the Goblet. Even then he seemed more sorry for Harry than anything else. Well, until a few weeks after the Goblet, when his attitude had begun to change. His housemates had noticed it too and had been relieved – they’d been giving Harry a rough time and had wondered why their champion hadn’t been doing the same.   
  
Not that he’d done anything overtly nasty; that just wasn’t what Cedric was about. But he had stopped berating his supporters every time they’d made a derogatory remark. And while he didn’t wear one himself, Cedric pretended not to notice that more and more Hogwarts students had begun wearing those horrible buttons proclaiming, ‘Potter Stinks.’  
  
Cho had no idea what had caused the turn around, not that it actually mattered, though the timing _was_ curious.   
  
“Justin,” Cho called out just as he and Patty were about to turn the corner. Play it cool, Cho, she chastised herself. No need to sound as desperate as you feel.   
  
The couple came to halt, looking over their shoulders. Justin grinned when he realized who she was while Patty looked a bit put-out. Then the light dawned on Cho as she drew closer and heard Patty mumble in an excited voice laced with irritation, “I’d love to go to the Yule Ball with you.”  
  
Cho could only assume that the irritation was aimed at her. Patty obviously was not all that happy about her special moment being interrupted by a third party.   
  
Justin’s head whipped around at Patty’s declaration. “Really?” He asked, sounding like someone had just handed him the prize money from the tournament. “I wasn’t sure… I mean I was hoping… but… wow!”  
  
Patty giggled. Justin blushed. Cho took advantage of the lull in the conversation to comment sweetly, “How lovely, you two will make an absolutely smashing couple.” Then turning solely to Justin, she asked, “Have you seen Cedric?”  
  
With great difficulty, Justin tore his gaze from Patty and said in a voice that wavered slightly, “Not since after the game.”   
  
“Yes, well… I _did_ hear about the locker room fiasco. And hearing about it second hand was jarring enough, but to have witnessed it first-hand…” Justin’s face quickly lost its rosy color, turning a sickly, greenish-grey. “…that must have been horrible,” she finished sympathetically.  
  
Taken in by the combination of Cho’s understanding smile and apparent knowledge of the situation, Justin nodded his head before saying, “It was unbelievable. I’d never seen Scott and Ced go at each other like that!”  
  
Ced and _Scott_? She’d heard that a fight had broken out and that Ced had been involved. Her unsuspecting sources hadn’t been able to tell her who the other person was – relying on the word of a third years for accurate gossip had its liabilities – just that one of the older boys was giving Ced a tough time in regard to the game and that Ced had taken exception to the deprecating remarks this player had made. In her wildest dreams, she never would have guessed it had been Scott. Ced and he had been thick as thieves since forever; she couldn’t recall a time where they’d been on the outs.   
  
Justin turned his gaze to Patty who was patiently waiting and said pleadingly, “Please don’t tell anyone else. We badgers protect our own, and Ced is about the best of us; he’d do the same for anyone in his house.”  
  
“No worries,” Patty whispered before taking Justin’s hand gently into her own.   
  
Justin’s face lit up to Christmas tree proportions, blinding in its brilliance.   
  
“Hungry?” she asked, clearly dismissing Cho, having eyes only for the boy before her.   
  
“Famished,” was his single word reply, equally enamored.  
  
So enraptured were they by the other, Cho felt it safe to allow herself an eye-roll. Bleck. Talk about sickening. There was _no_ way she’d ever allow herself to look that gaga over someone. She had a reputation to protect. Besides, boys went gaga over _her_ , not the other way around.  
  
“It’s a little early for lunch, don’t you think?” Cho remarked.  
  
With a smile all for the boy next to her, Patty said, “We both have a free period, and we’re headed to the kitchen for a snack.”  
  
Frowning, Cho asked, “Is that allowed?” She conveniently kept the fact that she and Cedric had done the same to herself. She just wanted to get as much information on the incident as she could, and Justin seemed more than willing to be forthcoming.  
  
“Not exactly,” Patty admitted, flashing a frown of her own at Cho, “but _everyone_ does it.” Her direct stare silently informing her that Patty was very aware of the times that Cho, herself had done the same.  
  
Busted, Cho realized in chagrin. Try another tactic; maybe flirting would work.  
  
Flashing Justin her most charming, high wattage smile, she asked, “Do you have a few moments to spare? I really would like to continue our conversation.”  
  
Justin looked stunned by her attentions. Patty looked furious.   
  
Gulping, Justin stammered, “Uh… yeah, sure; uh, I’d be happy to. Ummm…” Catching sight of Patty’s glare, he amended his answer. He did not want to get on Patty’s bad side. “Later?” He suggested to a clearly fuming Cho.   
  
Biting back an angry retort, Cho spoke calmly through clenched teeth, “Of course. Far be it for me to stand in the way of true love.”  
  
Patty flushed, embarrassed at Cho’s statement. Thankfully Justin didn’t catch on but threw Cho a grateful grin, missing the fact that Cho wasn’t being as generous and forgiving as she was coming across to him.   
  
“Let’s go, Justin.” Patty complained, urging him down the corridor with a pull of her hand. “If we don’t go now, we won’t have time to get a snack before next class.”   
  
“Right.” He responded brightly, while allowing himself to be steered by his – hopefully soon to be – girlfriend.  
  
Today, Cho decided, seemed to be the day in which she was destined to be stymied at every turn. If she believed in karma – which she did not – she’d think that Fate was paying her back for all her less than charitable deeds. Silly, of course, as anyone with half a brain could tell you. Professor Trelawney’s incessant babbling in Divination class on such topics were beyond ridiculous.   
  
Even that drudge Granger hated that particular subject with a heated passion. Why, Cho wondered incredulously was she standing here wasting her thoughts on _Granger_? Hadn’t she had to bear enough of that gargoyles interference? The little twit had an uncanny ability to put the spanners in her relationship with Cedric. They’d been sailing along just fine with nary a problem in sight until she stampeded into their lives.   
  
She’d worked too long and too hard for it all to fall apart now! But how could she make the ties between herself and Cedric stronger if he wasn’t around? Gods, Cho thought in exasperation, if he wasn’t making his rounds or having meetings with his prefects, or practicing quidditch, sleeping and eating; he was in that damned library! They hardly ever saw each other and when they did he claimed to be too tired to do any serious snogging or groping or _anything_! She couldn’t even see him in the library during study sessions. Cedric had all but banned her from the premises while he was there with Granger, and while it pissed her off, she couldn’t afford to rock the boat.   
  
Caught between inarticulate anger and massive annoyance, Cho recognized that she was going to have to go to the Head Boys’ quarters to seek Cedric out. _Again_. Turning on her heel, she moved briskly back the way she’d come, all the while wondering if he was even going to be there. He’d better be, she thought, put out by the fact that the day had gone from bad to worse.   
  
Fingering the buttons of her shirt, a sly smirk crossed her normally angelic looking features. And if he _was_ there, well… maybe he’d be up for some sweet consolation from his – more than eager to console – girlfriend.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments, reviews, and helpful critiques are welcome!


	9. Secrets Revealed (along with some skin)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Cedric doesn't turn up for one of their study sessions, Hermione goes looking for him and gets quite an eyeful!!

 

* * *

**Chapter Nine**

Hermione knocked on the Head Boy’s quarter’s door... again. She was getting annoyed; she’d been there for at least five minutes, and she had better things to do with her time than stand around waiting for Diggory to get his arse in gear. She’d sat in the library for a quarter of an hour before she realized he wasn’t going to show for their scheduled tutoring session.

 

She knocked louder, gritting her teeth in frustration. She was just getting ready to leave when the door opened to reveal a dishevelled looking Cho Chang. Cho turned her nose up when she saw who it was, reminding Hermione of how Mrs. Malfoy had looked at her when she, Harry, and the rest of the Weasleys had run into the Malfoys at the World Cup. Hermione bristled; the cow had no reason to look at her as if she were a particularly vile smelling pile of dung!

 

“What do _you_ want?” Cho snapped, making no move to do up her gaping shirt. Had the girl no shame? Clearly not, if the way she stood before Hermione, proudly flaunting her assets, was any indication! And that wasn’t all. The numerous red marks adorning her neck told a story all their own. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what she’d been doing . . . or with whom. In fact, if Hermione had been less furious, she would have been severely embarrassed by the situation. It wasn’t every day one caught others in – what was the term – flagrante delicto?

 

“Who is it?” asked Cedric, coming to stand off to the side of his girlfriend. Hermione didn’t think it was possible, but he looked worse than the lousy bint blocking the door; he was barely decent! His bangs fell in disarray over his forehead, but the rest of it was standing wildly on end, as if greedy fingers had raked through its sumptuous looking strands. No shirt what-so-ever to speak of, showing off a well-defined chest, bare of any hair. Some part of her distantly wondered if he shaved it off or if he was naturally clear of the substance.

 

Hermione’s eyes followed the natural course downward—anyone would, she assured herself, when faced with a similar situation. A wild blush flamed into life when she saw that his trousers hung low on his lean hips, with the top button undone. Hermione’s mortification was complete when her gaze came to a halt on an unmistakable bulge right there in the front of his pants. A very noteworthy bulge.

 

“Had your fill, Granger?”

 

Hermione’s eyes immediately jerked upward finding them locked to Cedric’s. Their grey gaze was hard and unyielding. That – added to the fact that his own lips had curled into a derisive slant the likes of which Hermione hadn’t seen on him before – made him resemble one of those narrow-minded, Pure-blooded oafs who saw her as nothing other than a filthy Mudblood. It was disturbing.

 

“S-sorry,” she managed to stutter.

 

Cho twittered nastily and flipped her hair so it arched perfectly over her shoulder landing in a dark stream down her back. Hermione wondered, just as nastily, how often she’d had to practice that move before she’d finally gotten it right.

 

“Well, come on, what do you want?” Cedric demanded impatiently.

 

Stiffening her spine, Hermione placed her hands on her hips, shooting Cho a look of disdain before addressing Cedric in a lofty voice, “We were supposed to meet for a tutoring session almost an hour ago.”

 

Cedric looked untroubled and simply asked, “And…?”

 

Cho didn’t even bother to hide her snide smirk, running proprietary fingers along Cedric’s well-developed bicep. Cedric sent her a lascivious grin as a reward, making it obvious to Hermione what he’d rather be doing. Studying with her didn’t come close in the equation.

 

“ _And_ ,” Hermione put emphasis on the word, glaring at him, her brown eyes shooting off sparks, “I haven’t got time to sit around and wait until you’re ready to give it a go.”

 

Cedric crossed his arms over his naked and – she could admit it – beautiful chest. Her curious eyes followed the flexing movement his actions had produced, she couldn’t help herself. It was humiliating, but she didn’t seem to have control over her wayward eyes. She noted a few shallow scratches marring his otherwise smooth skin, several of the welts cut right across one of his flat, brown nipples.

 

Merlin’s fuzzy beard, she thought in disgust, that witch really needed to cut her claws.

 

“My face is up here, Granger,” Cedric retorted, a sliver of sardonic amusement running through his voice. “And although I can understand your fascination with my fabulously fit bod, it’s highly inappropriate; don’t you think?”

 

“ _I_ certainly do,” Cho declared waspishly, not liking the way Granger was practically drooling.

 

Normally, another girl drooling over her man filled Cho with a wild, exuberant rush but not this time. It actually disturbed her how profoundly disturbed she felt. But even more disturbing was the fact that Granger’s incessant ogling didn’t seem to be bothering Ced in the least!

 

Generally, he was quite modest. Merlin knew it had taken her forever to coax him out of his robes. For awhile she’d been afraid that his interest ran not to the witches of Hogwarts, but to the wizards instead. Thankfully, that hadn’t been the case, and after months of subtle seduction, she’d finally reached her goal of getting the most popular and best looking boy naked underneath her.

 

Yet, here he was, ignoring her and set on baiting the squat, little gargoyle – standing there with her tongue all but hanging out – with his outrageous statements and cocky attitude. Clearly, he was enjoying Granger’s reactions to his near-nakedness.

 

Ignoring Cho, Cedric continued snidely, “Or isn’t Krum man enough for you?”

 

“What?!” Hermione and Cho gasped in synchronization. The look on Granger’s face was priceless, and Cedric took a great deal of smug satisfaction at the way her jaw dropped, nearly hitting the floor. Oh, yes, this was perfect!

 

Hermione was speechless. How did he know? How long had he known? Who had he told? Cho’s incredulous face made it obvious that this was the first she was hearing of it. Now that she knew, Hermione wouldn’t be surprised if the whole Ravenclaw tower knew by the next day.

 

“You’re a hypocrite, Granger,” he declared through narrowed eyes. “It’s perfectly acceptable for you to cancel out so you can shove your tongue down Krum's throat in some dark, seedy alcove, but when I do it, I’m wasting your time. Well, guess what? My time’s just as valuable.”

 

“How long?” Hermione questioned quietly. When he merely arched a brow at her, she stepped closer and whispered in a threatening tone, “How long have you known?”

 

He gave a brief, scornful laugh at her attempt to intimidate him. As if she could. “Long enough.” Let her stew on that!

 

“Who have you told?” she persisted, hating the way he grinned, a less than pleasant grin, at her barely concealed panic.

 

“Worried about your friends? Worried about what they’ll think about you fraternizing with the enemy?” Hermione blanched, a look of sheer horror crossing over her features. “It wouldn’t do, would it,” he continued with relish, “for them to discover that their precious Granger was having it off with a Death Eater in the making, now would it?”

 

Hermione didn’t know it was possible for someone to be so cruel. She was no stranger to cruelty, yet it had always come from the pitiful excuses for witches and wizards who had erroneously labelled her unworthy due to her blood status. She’d grown immune to their taunts and sneers; they meant nothing to her. But when someone who she thought of as friend delivered that cruelty, and with such savage delight, it was devastating. She struggled to maintain her composure; she would not let him see how his words had hurt her.

 

“You,” Hermione spoke slowly but with harsh certainty, “are pathetic. How I _ever_ could have thought you were worth my time is a mystery.” Cedric appeared unaffected by her statement. “I had every intention of telling you…” she broke off abruptly, setting her lips into a stubborn, stern line.

 

“What, Granger? What did you have ‘every intention of telling me’? Please,” he mocked her, “I’m breathless with anticipation.” Sarcasm rolled off of his tongue in thick waves.

 

Hermione breathed in deeply, pulling on every ounce of self-restraint she possessed. “I’m done, and I’m out of here.” She turned on her heels intent on leaving Cedric Diggory behind her for good.

 

She gasped, startled as she was grabbed by the arm and spun around. “ _I’m_ not done, and as Head Boy, you will stay right where you’re at until I see fit to dismiss you!”

 

Hermione was shocked to the core. Cedric had no right to use his status as Head Boy in such a manner.

 

Cho was shocked too, not only at Cedric’s use of his Head Boy powers, but by the fact that she was totally being ignored. Had someone cast a Disillusionment Charm on her while she hadn’t been paying attention?

 

“Fine,” Hermione spat at him. “Let’s get down to it already, I’m being unbearably stifled by having to share the same breathing space as you. So, oh great Head Boy…what pearls of wisdom am I about to be privy to?”

 

“Fifty points from Gryffindor,” Cedric said through tightly clenched teeth.

 

“What?!” Hermione gasped, anxious at the thought of losing so many House points. “Why?”

 

Cedric started ticking his reasons off one by one on his fingers. “For insubordination, for lack of proper respect to your Head Boy, _and_ , for your all around lack of good manners.”

 

“You… you…” Hermione stammered, so furious she had no words for it.

 

“Careful, Granger,” he warned her in a steely voice. “You do _not_ want to push me.”

 

Push him? _Push_ him? Pushing him was the least if it! She wanted to flat out belt. She wanted to kick him in the keister until he couldn’t sit down! She wanted to pull her wand and hex him into oblivion. Yet she couldn’t, and he knew it, damn him! She had no choice but to wait on him.

 

“Now, let’s continue, shall we?”

 

He came off sounding all cool-headed and reasonable, but his control was far from complete. Hermione could see the anger, settling down for a nice, long stay in the depths of those stormy grey eyes.

 

“You were going to tell me something at our tutoring session today. What was it?”

 

Hermione turned her head away, her desire to help and assist him with the first task collapsing as easily as a house made out of exploding snap cards. He took her chin in a firm grasp and forced her to look at him.

 

“What was it?” he asked again, more insistent and with an eager expectancy about him.

 

She couldn’t tell him now, she just couldn’t. If she did, he’d know that Viktor and Harry knew as well, and she couldn’t have that. If she hadn’t blundered into this nasty side of Cedric, she would have come clean for sure, but not now. She had no way of knowing what he’d do with that sort of information, no guarantee that he wouldn’t go to the officials of the tournament with the damning knowledge. Thank Merlin he hadn’t given her the chance!

 

Her course decided; she stared straight into his eyes as she made her false claim with as much surety as she possessed. “I was going to inform you that, after today’s tutoring session, I won’t be able to tutor you anymore.” When he began an intense and thorough scrutiny of her face, she added quickly, “I have far too much on my plate as it is; I’m falling behind in my own studies. Besides,” she desperately added, when it looked as if he wasn’t convinced, “I also have Viktor to think of now.”

 

He pressed his thumb firmly into the slight indentation on her chin before absently replying, “Ahh, yes…Krum, we mustn’t forget him, must we?”

 

Hermione gulped at the glint that flashed in his eyes, not understanding its significance but finding it disturbing none-the-less.

 

“I thought… I thought you and Harry were together,” Cho sputtered, still in shock at not only the revelation that Granger was dating of all people – Viktor Krum – but of anyone taking an interest in little Miss Nobody.

 

Even though Cho knew that Harry had a notable crush on her, she also knew that he was immensely devoted to Granger. There had been a part of her which had thought Harry was secretly dating his fellow Gryffindor, no matter how tasteless the choice.

 

“ _What_?!” This time the astounded exclamation came from Hermione and Cedric, both of whom turned abruptly to glare at Cho.

 

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Cedric spat, causing Cho to turn on him with equal fervour.

 

“Why’s it ridiculous? She’s with him constantly and she does everything for him!”

 

That was going a bit too far for Hermione’s liking. “Not everything,” Hermione disagreed, irked by the Ravenclaw but doing her best to keep a lid on it -- she hardly wanted to lose more House points.

 

Cho’s face twisted with a long suppressed fury. “Do you _actually_ think that you’ll suddenly become someone by riding on Harry’s coat tails? Huh, do you? You’re a joke, Granger. A big, fat, ugly joke! And the biggest joke of all is that you’re too stupid to even catch on to the fact that you’re the butt of the joke!”

 

“Cho…” Cedric began but was completely ignored.

 

Shaking her head, Cho spitefully continued. “You shouldn’t even be here!” Cho looked Hermione up and down and stated derisively, “Muggle-born trash is what you are, and Muggle-born trash is all you’ll ever be!”

 

“Cho!” Cedric’s voice lashed out like a whip, but he was once again ignored.

 

“If you didn’t have, Harry, you’d have no one! Are you so desperate to be accepted, that you’d do anything he asked of you? I wouldn’t be at all surprised if you’d walk him to the loo and hold it for him while he’s taking a piss, if he requested it!”

 

Cedric’s face twisted into astonished disgust, the image of Granger holding Potter's prick was repulsive. He knew that there was nothing remotely sexual about their relationship and to suggest so was tantamount to incest.

 

With no warning, other than a feral growl, Granger lunged at Cho. The momentum of her surprise attack forced Cho to backpedal into Cedric, knocking him off balance. He tried desperately to right himself but failed, hitting the floor with a thunderous thump.

 

He tried to raise his head and groaned; he’d cracked it hard when he’d landed. Through the black spots wavering in his vision, he was able to make out Granger on top of Cho. Sitting up as quickly as his spinning head would allow, Cedric rolled onto his knees and pushed himself off the floor making his way to the two girls who were grappling viciously with each other.

 

Cho was screaming obscenities fit for the locker room, hands wound deeply in Granger’s mass of unruly hair, pulling and yanking. Granger had Cho by the collar of her blouse, which had been pulled free of the rest of its buttons, and, to Cedric’s dismay, she was repeatedly bouncing Cho’s head off the floorboards.

 

Granger was screaming, too, but for the life of him, he couldn’t make out what she was yelling. She was like a rabid animal, and it was altogether scarier than Cho’s sailor-like swearing.

 

Cedric’s eyes widened incredulously when Granger brought a fist high in the air. The realization struck Cedric like a bolt of lightning. Granger was going to punch Cho, actually _punch_ her! It galvanized him into action, Cedric grabbed Granger: she was a tiny thing, his one arm making it completely around her waist with some to spare. However small she might be, she was also very strong and wasn’t making it easy for him. It didn’t help that his arms kept getting trapped in her robes, making it difficult to get a good solid grip. Keeping one arm tightly round her waist he captured Granger’s clenched fist in his own before it could make its descent, pulling her arm back. He hadn’t meant to hurt her, but she let out a yelp of pain.

 

It was all the opening Cho needed. Releasing Granger’s hair, she rolled slightly to the side, giving her enough leverage to bring her own hand back, and cracked Granger open-handed in the face. Granger's head rocked to the opposite direction, and Cedric thought for sure that the nasty blow would dislodge her from the vice-like grip she had on Cho’s waist with her knees, but it didn’t.

 

He heard Granger growl and with renewed strength, twisted her arm free of his grasp, drawing back and returning the favour. Cho gasped in outrage, and from his straddled position, Cedric could see over Granger’s shoulder and noticed that a bruise was already beginning to form over Cho’s eye. One half of her face was reddened with the outline of Granger’s hand clearly visible. He didn’t know how much damage Cho had done to Granger, but it had to be extensive; there was no way she’d be walking away unscathed.

 

“Granger, let up,” Cedric desperately yelled in her ear. When she didn’t acknowledge his order, he turned his attention to the other girl hoping to have more success with her. Cho, however, was as beyond reasoning with as Granger and totally ignored his repeated pleas for her to ‘give over!’

 

Cedric was sorely tempted to let them go at it full force and pick up the pieces afterward. That thought vanished immediately; it was a totally unacceptable action, not only as Head Boy, but also as a human being, so he continued to make an effort at separating them. He decided to try a different tactic, and gave up on trying to manoeuvre his other arm around Granger as her robes were just too thick and voluminous. A few seconds later that impediment was no longer a problem, with one tremendous jarring action on Cho’s part, Grangers robes were split in half from neckline to waist.

 

Granger immediately stilled, and he took advantage of her temporary immobility wrapping his arms completely around her, effectively pinning her arms to her sides.

 

Her retaliation was swift; she turned on him snarling viciously, virtually spitting in his face, screaming, “Let me go! Get _off_ me!” She shifted, looking for a chink in the way he was holding her captive. “I’m going to kill that, that… stuck up cow!” He let out a painful grunt when her elbow connected with his gut. Cedric squeezed her more tightly; there would be no more elbows, thank-you very much!

 

Now that Granger was being detained by Cedric, Cho had ample time to administer her retribution. Shoving one hand back into Granger’s massive cloud of hair, she grasped it in a talon-like grip at the very roots and screeched, “I’d rather be a stuck up cow than a plug ugly bitch!” She yanked until a handful of Granger’s frizzy curls came away, spilling haphazardly between her fingers.

 

Granger let out an agonized whimper. Merlin, but that had to have hurt, Cedric thought, feeling bad that because of him, Granger was now at a severe disadvantage, but he didn’t know what else to do. Sympathy for her disappeared as quickly as it had come when he felt her sharp teeth sinking into the flesh of his upper arm.

 

“Ouch! Dammit, Granger, give over!”

 

He’d read somewhere that when you’re being bitten the worst thing to do is to try to rip yourself away, it caused far much more damage. Instead, the proper course of action is to shove whatever they’d latched onto further into their mouth, choking them so that they’d instinctively release you because if you’re choking, then you can’t breathe.

 

In theory, it made perfect sense. In theory. But, Cedric was almost fucking certain that theory took little to no account of the instinctive nature. He instinctively pulled away, and regretted it instantly. He felt some flesh give way, and a painful burning sensation spread through his arm, but he’d suffered through worse. Ignoring the blood coasting down his arm, he yanked at Granger again, trying to free Cho from her weight. And Granger moved, but Cho came right along with her. Taking a deep, fortifying breath, Cedric dug his heels into the floor at the same time he used his body weight to lean back as far as could and gave one last tug. To his immense gratification, Granger did become partially dislodged, her knees unclenching from Cho’s waist. Finally, he thought in exhausted exasperation, some headway at last. All seemed to be working fine until she flung back her head.

 

Cedric felt an explosion of pain like none he’d ever experienced before. He’d had plenty of injuries, it was inevitable when you played a sport as dangerous as Quidditch, but this was in a league all its own.

 

Earlier, when he’d hit his head, there’d been pain and even black spots, but this was fucking _excruciating_! Cedric felt more blood, only this time it was gushing from his nose. His hands automatically flew to his face trying to stem the flow. Merlin, he groaned silently, Granger must have broken it.

 

Then, before he knew what was happening, he was flying backward, having been forcibly bucked off. Cedric fell onto his back, cradling his injured nose. Head Boy duties, be damned! Enough was enough. He couldn’t see a fucking thing other than a mass of swirling colours in front of his eye. Even though his sight was impaired, there was nothing wrong with his hearing, and he could hear them continue to go at each other. Then he heard the shouted word, “ _Stupefy_!” followed by, “ _Petrificus Totalus_! 

* * *


	10. An Interesting Turn Of Events

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of the girl-on-girl WWF take down.

  


* * *

  


**Chapter Ten**

Cedric managed to climb to his feet before stumbling, falling to his knees, and cracking them hard. Sure it hurt, but considering how horribly his nose was throbbing, it barely registered on his pain radar. He pushed himself off of the floor with shaking arms. After he regained his footing, he tentatively wiped the back of his hand underneath his clearly broken nose. A thick red smear graced the skin there, and he wiped his hand across it again, wincing at the pain. With a quick swish of his wand, Cedric stemmed the flow altogether. Now that the haze of pain had receded somewhat, and he was able to actually see, what he saw was Granger standing by the inert body of Cho, shivering with her arms crossed over her bare midriff. There was a large, jagged oval of missing cloth from neck to waist. Cho must have torn Granger’s shirt right down the front along with her robes. Some serious adrenaline must have been rushing through Cho’s veins in order for her to have done that.

 

Then Cedric realized something that had him doing a double take. Granger had a chest, an honest to goodness _chest_ underneath those hideous robes. _Of course she has a chest, you dolt; all girls do_! Still, it startled him. He supposed it had to do with the fact that, other than the few glimpses he'd had of her limbs, he'd never actually seen her out of her robes before then. It was a disconcerting revelation indeed. It was true, he thought with a determined detachment, that her voluptuous curves weren't exactly properly showcased in their plain, white, cotton encasement. He was, however, pleased to note that the flesh inside did look mightily enticing all the same. The only impediment to their otherwise stunning perfection was a scattering of at least half a dozen angry looking crimson, raised ridges splashing from the curve of her breast down to the upper part of her rib cage.

 

It took great effort, but he did manage to peel his eyes from Granger’s cleavage and focus on the rest of her. Yeah, that's right, Diggory… _focus_! Focus on something other than Granger's fit form. At least it looked right fit to him from the waist up. Crap! He was staring at her chest again. He needed to focus on other aspects of Granger. It was rude of him to keep gawking at Granger's considerable attributes. Rude and downright perverted, too! This was not the kind of situation where he should be wondering if the rest of her looked this good without clothes. Dammit! Get your filthy mind out of the filth! Focus, you utter jackass!

 

When he was finally able to do just that, he cringed. Her hair was a tortured, tangled, and chaotic mass of countless frizzy knots. In some places, strands barely hung on to their neighbor, looking as if a good swift shake of her head would knock them free. Definitely the tortuous aftermath of Cho and her Seeker’s grip, only this time, instead of the golden snitch, it had been Granger’s hair that had been the target. He continued his silent inventory, willing her to look up so he could do a more thorough examination of the damage. As if hearing his silent request, Granger slowly and with obvious trepidation, raised her chin. A small gasp escaped him at what he saw. A wide slash from her brow to chin was bleeding freely, though not copiously he was relieved to note, and a huge bruise was beginning to blossom underneath its ragged edges.

 

Unfortunately, he’d barely had time to register the rest of the possible physical damage to Granger, let alone anymore of her near nakedness, since it seemed as if his little sitting room was suddenly filled to the rim with an irate mob, most of which being several professors. Cedric was convinced that someone must have summoned them because he was located in the lower depths of the castle, near Hufflepuff’s sett, and he was almost certain that their scuffle couldn’t have been heard. To his utter dismay, Cedric noticed that professors weren’t the only ones to pour into the room. An influx of students, some of whom he was well acquainted with, stood in the doorway gaping about as well. Some of the faces had expressions of fascinated horror while others looked on in awe and there were those whose showed signs of confused disbelief. A few even looked – of all things – frightened. But of what, he wondered in bemused annoyance. He was the one sporting a broken nose, for Merlin's sake! There was nothing scary about that, unless you took into account that the rest of him probably looked as if he'd been in his own private war. He grudgingly acknowledged to himself that he might look a tad frightening, all things considered.

 

Professor McGonagall waved them back out into the hall exclaiming in strident tones, “Out with you. Out with you, I say. This is not some sort of Veela dance show. Go on, go on,” she muttered with harried asperity.

 

“Ponoma, if you please.” McGonagall requested as Cedric’s own Head of House bustled passed the gathering group, huffing and puffing as if she had run the length of the Quidditch pitch. The scowl on her face was enough to send the rest of them trotting down the corridor.

 

“ _Miss_ Granger, cover yourself!”

 

Granger, possibly in shock, made no move to do as McGonagall had just ordered.

 

“Miss Granger!”

 

Walking as swiftly as his shaky legs would allow, Cedric grabbed his shirt, which had been discarded on the end of the couch. Cho had stripped it from his body when they had been engaged in a serious bout of snogging before Granger’s ill-timed interruption.

 

He slowly approached Granger, as if she were a highly-strung Hippogriff that he didn’t want to startle. Everyone knew that a startled Hippogriff was dangerous and _he_ knew from the state of his aching nose, that Granger could be dangerous when vexed.

 

She watched him with suspicious and slightly glazed eyes. Was she okay? She certainly didn’t look like she was. Truthfully, he was amazed that she hadn’t already dissolved into a hysterical heap. Cedric held the shirt out to her with one hand while lifting his other, splaying the fingers to show that he was unarmed. He was fairly certain the melee was over, but he wasn’t willing to test that theory.

 

When she didn’t take the shirt, he shook it, Cedric was afraid that McGonagall’s patience was going to wear thin. “Take it, Granger,” he urged, sending a sideways glance towards her Head of House, but she was busy kneeling next to Cho consulting with Professor Flitwick, who was clearly disturbed at seeing one of his most favored students in such a state.

 

“What are your thoughts, Filius? Envenerate or transport Miss Chang to the Hospital Wing first?”

 

Flitwick cleared his throat, if it was possible for a simple clearing of the throat to sound uncomfortable that was it, before answering. “It might be best to wait, Minerva. She will need proper medical attention.”

 

In a sick way, Cedric thought that was somewhat funny because didn’t they all? Maybe he was in shock, too. He mentally checked himself. Nope, he didn’t seem to be experiencing any of the symptoms that people in shock were supposed to experience. Other than a bloody nose, aching muscles and the beginnings of a massive headache, he seemed all right enough.

 

“Granger, come on,” Cedric shook the shirt again. “Cripes,” he muttered under his breath, when she just continued her silent vigil. Was he going to have to cover her himself? Apparently so.

 

Lowly he whispered, not wanting to draw further attention to them. In his opinion, the longer the professor’s attentions stayed with Cho the better. “I’m just going to put this over your shoulders, yeah?”

 

Cedric took her silence as acquiescence and continued his slow tread towards where she stood, keeping one eye on the wand she still had clasped tightly in her hand. As he got closer, he could see that though her face and chest looked the worse for wear, the left side of her temple had blood-matted curls stuck to it and that side of her lip had begun to swell.

 

When he was a few inches away, he held up the shirt again to reinforce his intentions. Just as he was lifting his arms to place it on her, her entire body began to shake. Not subtle shakes either, but violent tremors that rocked her entire being; it was disturbing to witness.

 

When she looked up at him with her huge, injured eyes, a wave of pity along with a healthy dose of remorse rushed through him, and he couldn’t help but think that everything that had happened here was, without a doubt, his fault.

 

Suddenly, she moved, her wand falling to the ground with a small clatter as she stepped into his embrace. He was, momentarily, stunned, but raised the shirt and carefully placed it on her and pulled the edges closed as far they would go; which really wasn’t all that far up at the front. It was difficult for him to get the cotton cloth entirely wrapped around her when she was pressed so tightly up against him.

 

It was instinctive to wrap his arms around her. He tried, _really_ tried not to notice how soft her skin was, or how perfectly she fit under his chin as he gently rocked her, soft crooning sounds spilling from his lips. Her tears soaked his skin but he didn’t mind, that was the least of his worries.

 

“ _Wingardium Leviosa_.”

 

Cedric heard Flitwick use the spell to levitate Cho's body. The professor had taken off his own robes and thrown them over Cho. They barely covered her, she was much taller than the diminutive wizard.

 

"Professors, is Cho all right?" he asked, concern for her well-being finally kicking in. Scott was right when he claimed that he was a right, royal bastard. Only a right, royal bastard wouldn't be worried about his girlfriend because he was too busy being more worried about whether or not another girl looked good naked all around. Great Merlin's pointy beard, he was a berk of the highest order and make no mistake of that.

 

Flitwick ignored him, undoubtedly intent on getting Cho placed under Madam Pomfrey’s care.

 

Professors McGonagall and Sprout immediately turned to Cedric, who was still holding Hermione and patting her back in lieu of the crooning while he asked his question. Granger wasn’t sobbing her heart out anymore, instead was sniffling and making low mewling sounds of distress which reverberated off the planes of the taught muscles of his chest.

 

Cedric quailed at the aggressive sternness in McGonagall’s small, slightly beady eyes. It couldn’t bode well that her lips were pursed into a Pince-like pucker. A clear, yet silent statement that warned of impending doom, and she didn’t disappoint.

 

“ _Mister_ Diggory,” she demanded. “What is the meaning of this inappropriate, incomprehensible, indecent, indisputable display of indignity?” Cedric flinched as her voice raised an octave with each word.

 

He struggled silently to answer, but how in the world could he when nothing, absolutely nothing, was coming to mind. Cedric fervently wished a bout of eloquence would wash over him so he could at least attempt to try to salvage something of the situation. As if anything could possibly save it, he wryly admitted.

 

“Well?”

 

A clearing of a throat interrupted McGonagall’s interrogation and Cedric sighed in relief until he realized who it was standing in the doorway.

 

“Good evening, Minerva,” Dumbledore intoned, surprising them with the banality of his salutation.

 

“Albus,” McGonagall reciprocated, obviously baffled.

 

“Mister Diggory,” his greeting to Cedric was given with the same unnatural aplomb. Dumbledore then totally threw him off guard by giving him a slight nod of his head, which Cedric automatically returned.

 

“And to you as well, Miss Granger.”

 

Granger mumbled an incoherent reply. Cedric was outstandingly perplexed. Had he just wandered into an episode of the “Twilight Zone”? The Muggle show, which Cedric had viewed on an interesting box called a telly, had alternately amused and bemused him.

 

Justin had forced him to watch it while visiting with him and his family, and, not just one episode, oh no, it was what Justin had called a marathon. Cedric’s idea of a marathon had more to do with the physical exertions of the body and nothing to do with sitting on a couch between Justin and his dad eating crisps and drinking a bubbly, but tasty drink, which had made him repeatedly burp. The act had prompted the Finch-Fletchley men to burst into barely controlled guffaws, repeatedly elbowing Cedric in the ribs in the process. They were nice people, but had odd taste in entertainment.

 

“Well,” Dumbledore began, “this is an interesting turn of events.”

* * *


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cedric and Hermione meet with Dumbledore while the whole school is awash with rumors about that might have actually happened.

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**Chapter Eleven**

Cedric found himself staring intently at anything other than the Headmaster. The high-domed ceiling held his interest for a while, but it wasn't long before the wall beyond Dumbledore's shoulders attracted his attention. On it hung several portraits of Headmasters of old, and many were openly curious, their eyes flickering back and forth between the two students. A few even openly snickered and Cedric glared defiantly back at the nasty buggers – damn portraits! When trying to out-stare those framed buzzards became pointlessly passé, he began a studious examination of the Sorting Hat whose brim was slightly cock-eyed instead of lying flat on the shelf. It took several seconds of serious scrutiny on the object for him to realize that the reason it was cock-eyed had nothing to do with it being slightly set eschew when put down, but because it had been giving him a prolonged, audacious wink! Cedric found this highly disturbing and switched his gaze abruptly to something less unnerving – or less animate for that matter. He discovered that the ancient carpet really was quite lovely – from India if he wasn't very much mistaken – as he marveled at the unparalleled craftsmanship thinking how much his mum would have loved it.

 

Thinking on his mum brought a terrible tightness to his chest. From the time he'd been a young lad, his mum had been his salvation for a vast array of reasons, and being the cause of any type of pain or unhappiness to her was just about going to tear out his guts. She didn't see him as the 'incredibly prestigious Head Boy' or 'Hogwarts rightful champion', both useless titles his father had been using often of late while introducing him to whoever happened to be in their vicinity. It seemed like he never wearied of waxing lyrical when it came to his only child. His mum, on the other hand, allowed him to be exactly what he was: her son – nothing more and nothing less.

 

His father's reaction upon hearing this news didn't even bear thinking on. While it wasn't in Amos Diggory's nature to lose his temper, Cedric was still pretty certain that in his own way his father was going to experience a serious conniption. The inevitable fall-out would come in the form of a dragon-load of disillusioned looks and disgruntled sighs of disappointment. It was completely unacceptable for the son of Amos Diggory to let him down in any way, shape, or form. Perfection was expected – demanded almost – and while it was something Cedric had learned how to deal with long ago it did get tiresome.

 

The clearing of a throat made Cedric's eyes snap up to the Headmaster's face. The older wizard was sitting motionless behind his desk. Gone was the laughing twinkle in those ancient steel-blue eyes and an unfamiliar frown could be seen peeking out beyond the depths of his long, fluffy white beard. This did not look good.

 

"This is most unexpected." Cedric winced slightly when the wizard he admired so greatly continued gravely, "And most unacceptable."

 

Nope, not good at all. Cedric shuffled uncomfortably from side to side and braced himself for some really bad news. A reminder that he was not alone in this predicament came in the form of a quiet, anguished sob drawing his attention to the girl standing next to him. He didn't need to look at Hermione to see how distressed the Headmaster's statements had made her. She was trying so hard to be brave too; he could tell.

 

It must be as novel an experience for her as it was for him to be summoned into this chamber for a good dressing down. Like him, she could probably count on her one hand – and not use all of the fingers – the number of times she'd been called here. And, more than likely, none of them had been for disciplinary reasons either.

 

Cedric clenched his hands tightly where they rested at the base of his spine when another muffled cry reached his ears. His heart went out to her, it really did, and he was desperately wracking his brain trying to come up with the right words to free Hermione of the majority of the punishment that was sure to be coming their way. Cedric had read Hogwarts: A History enough times to know that, although they were infrequent occurrences, and heavily frowned upon, physical confrontations had occurred in the past.

 

If he was remembering rightly, back in 1864 Charis Hemmelfeth had been stripped of her title of Prefect due to a similar incident. It was of small comfort to him that it had been a professor who had been on the receiving end of Miss Hemmelfeth's ire instead of another classmate. Charis had been severely punished for her unseemly – and supposedly unwarranted –attack on said professor, but she hadn't been expelled. And, right now, Cedric was clinging onto that fact like a life-line.

 

Biting his lip in consternation, Cedric risked a glance at Hermione, and then inwardly heaved a gigantic groan of despair. Could she look any worse? They might have been able to get away with a 'there had been an argument' or an 'it was a slight disagreement' as an explanation of this horrendous debacle. A bit of prevarication wouldn't have been amiss in this situation. But there was no way that was going to pan out. There could be no doubt whatsoever that she had been indulging in some serious brawling. Cedric grimaced when he recognized that the dried patch at the corner of her mouth was blood, _his_ blood. Little minx had bit him good; his arm was still stinging.

 

It didn't help their case any that Hermione had had her eyes guiltily glued to the floor since they'd stationed themselves in front of Dumbledore's massive desk. And it certainly didn't look good for either of them that the hem of his less-than pristine shirt fell an inch or two from the tops of her knees looking more like an ill-fitting, mangy dress than part of a school uniform. But, at least now it was buttoned up, effectively covering her disturbing nakedness. While the length made it seem as if she wore nothing underneath, his rational mind was well aware that her skirt was there. However, the baser part of him couldn't help but ruminate on the delightful possibilities if that were not the case. Cedric choked back a stupefied cough.

 

What the hell was wrong with him? Was he _really_ standing here having lascivious thoughts about Granger? It wasn't even as if she looked all that attractive right now anyway. She was a right mess! Still, there was nothing wrong with her legs; they'd at least escaped somewhat unscathed. Sure there were a few patches of brush burned skin on her knees but nothing that detracted from their shapeliness. Her calves weren't too shabby either. He just wished he'd had an opportunity to catch a glimpse of her thighs before they'd been concealed by the tails of his oxford, but he'd bet his last sickle that they were as amazing as the rest of her.

 

Good Godric's ghost! This was positively ridiculous! It was apparent that even while in the presence of the Headmaster, and just moments away from being raked over the coals, that he was still a disgusting pig. And what about Cho? Cho, who did have plenty going for her in the looks department hadn't been this much of a distraction and that right there was saying something. But, more importantly, Cho was his _girlfriend_ , his sexy and beautiful girlfriend, and he damn well shouldn't have to continually remind himself of that fact.

 

Yes sir, he'd better start thinking long and hard about his sexy and beautiful girlfriend _Cho_ who was lying in the Hospital Wing, and not so much on Granger who wasn't beautiful – at least not by the established definition of beauty. Not to mention the fact that –and here was the important part – Granger _wasn't_ his girlfriend. So, sexual thoughts about her were inappropriate and degraded his relationship with Cho, who was his girlfriend and beautiful to boot. Kicking himself in the arse, and hard, seemed like as good an option as any at this point in time.

 

Hermione really wanted to wipe her nose, but she was still wearing Cedric's shirt, and, though it was worse for wear, she was loath to ruin it any further. If she'd had her wand she would have mended it. She wasn't one to go around looking mussed and rumpled. It didn't even dawn on her that mussed and rumpled were mild words compared to the actual picture she presented.

 

She chanced a glance at Cedric from the corner of her lowered eyes. His own were traveling all over the place settling briefly here and then briefly there as if frantically searching for an exit. Fat chance on that happening. Hermione had been in this particular room enough times to know that there was only one way out and she doubted very much they'd get the opportunity to use it until the Headmaster deemed it time.

 

After closer inspection, she found herself having to bite back a string of hysterical giggles at just how ridiculous Mr. Always-Beautifully-Put-Together-And-Perfectly-Coiffed was looking. Professor McGonagall's feminine-cut robes barely managed to traverse the distance across the expanse of his well-defined chest, and they bunched up tightly around his shoulders, giving him a slight hunchback that Hermione found incredibly funny. The billowy sleeves managed to cling at his elbows leaving his tanned, muscular forearms bare. Nasty, wicked looking red marks marred their once pristine appearance, and Hermione felt no remorse at all at having put them there. Fact was she was hoping she'd dug deep enough to scar so that he'd have visual evidence for the rest of his life of just what an awful arse he really was!

 

Cedric's incomparably beautiful nose would not be suffering the same fate. Madame Pomfrey had pleaded with the Headmaster on Cedric's behalf fearing that if it wasn't taken care of immediately that it might retain its crooked semblance. Personally, Hermione wouldn't have been at all sorry if Cedric Diggory – Hufflepuff's Hot Head Boy – would have had to have walked the halls of Hogwarts sporting a crooked snout.

 

Everything that had happened was all of his doing, the lousy git! So, in her opinion, it would have been poetic justice if his nose had ended up as messed up as his brain. Although she doubted that the rest of the female population of the school would have agreed with her, even if he did deserve it.

 

If he'd just shown up for his tutoring session as planned, she never would have gone looking for him and that nasty bint Cho wouldn't have had the chance to goad her into – of all things – attacking her. Sure, she'd given Malfoy a good one during third year, but he'd deserved it. Come to think of it, so had Cho. Not that she was making excuses for herself. She was quite aware that what she'd done was inexcusable, but it was still all Cedric's fault! It all boiled down to him.

 

Hermione's mind frantically raced through similar incidents that might have occurred in Hogwarts past. There was that incident with Charis Hemmelfeth. She'd attacked an actual professor back in the day and received, in her opinion, a light sentence. Thankfully, she hadn't been expelled. Hermione could deal with detention for three months straight, and she could even handle a massive loss of House points-although her House would be seeing red on that. She didn't play Quidditch, so being kicked off of the team wouldn't go against her. Charis Hemmelfeth had lost all of that plus her Prefect status. That was a concern of Hermione's. She knew she'd make a fine Prefect and eventually, if she worked hard enough, Head Girl as well. It had been her dream since first year. The possibility that she'd be able to reach those goals now was depressingly slim. Finally, the wizard seated across from them spoke again, "Mr. Diggory, your record here with us has, thus far, has been exemplary."

 

Oh, boy, here we go, Cedric thought with dread.

 

"You have been a model student and a testament to all those who esteem and look to you as a leader and follow your example."

 

Oh, Merlin… this was going to be worse than bad.

 

"This is not the first time this term that there has been trouble, if I am not mistaken, Mister Diggory?"

 

The Headmaster had formulated it as a question, but they both knew it was a rhetorical one at best.

 

Gulping, Cedric answered quietly, "No, sir."

 

"I believe the previous situation in which involved you and a fellow Hufflepuff had been easily dispatched by Professor Sprout, correct?"

 

"Uh, yes sir," Cedric agreed, with a brief but respectful nod.

 

"Angry words are often spoken between classmates and friends, are they not?" Dumbledore pointed out in a reasonable manner. "Other than words, nothing else had been exchanged between you?"

 

What exactly did Dumbledore expect him to say? Of course people argued, even friends. Cedric sighed quietly. It was also true that he and Scott hadn't come to blows, but it had been a very near thing. If several of their team-mates hadn't stepped in, well … Cedric didn't even really want to contemplate on what might have happened. As it was, with no modesty whatsoever, Scott had stripped himself of his Quidditch uniform in front of the entire team. 

 

* * *

 

**Flashback**

Cedric pulled ineffectually at the teams' arms and hands who were keeping him from his objective: Scott Summers. He pulled and pushed intent on getting through so he could whip the berk's arse, but they all held firm.

 

"Let up, Ced," Zach beseeched his furious captain. "It isn't worth it! Come on; let's focus on the team." Zach continued to plead his case, "That's what's important here… the team!" "Please!"

 

Susan held her breath. Would he listen? Would he? She really hoped so. He was the best captain this team had ever had – if one didn't count today's mess – and losing him would be a terrible blow. She darted a swift glance at Scott. Justin had a restraining hand on his shoulder, although it looked as if it wasn't needed.

 

Other than breathing really hard, and carrying a fierce expression on his face, Susan was relieved to see that their star Chaser seemed to have gotten it together. No small feat considering how volatile Scott was known to be when vexed. They'd all been witness to it, but he'd never taken his ire out on an actual person, let alone a teammate and friend.

 

Usually he'd punch a wall or barrel into a locker until his frustration was spent. Ced didn't exactly approve of Scott's form of venting, but as long as he paid for any damages he'd let it slide. Being a close mate, he knew Scott well enough to know that he needed some sort of outlet for his over the top disappointment whenever they'd lose.

 

Cedric drew in a deep breath and then ceased all of his combative struggles. Once they were certain that the worst of the storm was over, all hands fell away. Zach, however, retained a watchful eye and stuck close to Ced's side in case a buffer would be needed again. But, thankfully, it seemed as if the fight had gone out of both boys.

 

They all watched in stunned silence as Scott toed off his boots and then stripped off his jersey and then his trousers, the last of which landed in Susan's line of vision where she had been fervently examining the floorboards and no doubt hoping that he was wearing undergarments.

 

Out of the corner of his eye Cedric had seen Justin reaching for an unused bath sheet and guessed correctly that he was going to offer it the now former Chaser.

 

"I don't want the damn thing!" Scott had exclaimed shortly. "I want nothing, _nothing_ from the likes of him."

 

Susan had almost lifted her head at that point and then seemed to catch herself. Things were awkward enough as it was without her catching an unintentional sneak peek at Scott's masculine bits.

 

"In case you're wondering, we're no longer mates. You and me… we're through."

 

It was a cringe-worthy statement and Cedric did his best to keep from showing everyone in the room just how much Scott's statement had affected him.

 

"Fine by me," was Cedric's laconic response. "It isn't as though you've been much of a friend lately anyway."

 

Scott ducked his head refusing to meet anyone's quizzical gaze and muttered with great reluctance, "Can't fault you on that one."

 

Then, he turned his back on Cedric and headed toward the locker room door naked as the day he was born. An ear-splitting ' _SNAP_ ' had his team-mate's heads whipping back in his direction faster than a Nimbus 2000. Everyone went completely motionless, and their eyes widened in disbelieving shock at what they saw. Cedric Diggory had taken his beloved broom and with his bare hands had broken it in half as if it had been nothing more than an ancient, brittle piece of driftwood.

 

**End of Flashback**

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Yeah, that right there had been quite the scene. It had irked him mightily that Scott had driven him to the point that he'd actually destroyed his broom. Still, Cedric could concede that his former friend –even naked – had managed to make a dignified exit. Which was more than could have been said for his own. He'd stalked off to the captains' office, muttering and grumbling the entire length of the room, slamming the door with such force that it had rattled the glass, coming alarmingly close to shattering it. Yeah, real mature there Diggory.

 

Cedric's thoughts were interrupted when Dumbledore questioned with a slightly raised eyebrow, "Everyone came out unscathed, did they not?" Without pausing to wait for an answer, he continued, sounding exceedingly disappointed, "A pity the same cannot be said for this situation." In what seemed to Cedric like a complete turnabout, he then remarked, "None of us is, after all, perfect. Is that not so, Mister Diggory?"

 

"I suppose not." Cedric muttered, confused as hell with this conversation.

 

The Headmaster clasped his hands together and pressed his forefingers lightly to his lips while gracing Cedric with a contemplative stare before saying gravely, "In truth, Mister Diggory, you ought to be dismissed as Hogwarts' Tri-Wizard champion." Cedric cringed. "However, seeing as the Cup chose you to represent the school in the Tournament, and the rules are absolute, you will not be required to do so. To your credit, up until this point, you have managed to exemplify all the fine qualities attributed to Hogwarts. Based upon that fact; had it been within my power to disqualify you, I would not have."

 

Cedric was astonished at his good fortune and would have jumped for joy if he hadn't thought it would have gotten him into more trouble. Then Dumbledore said, sounding much more severe.

 

"It does grieve me to inform you that this fortuitous state of affairs will not, however, follow you into your Seventh year."

 

What did the Headmaster mean? Cedric needn't have worried because he wasn't left to wonder for long. At Dumbledore's next words, Cedric's head whipped back as if he'd been struck.

 

"You will be stripped of all the titles you now hold upon the beginning of your Seventh year here at Hogwarts. You will relinquish not only your Head Boy status but that of Captain of Hufflepuff Quidditch team as well."

 

Cedric's eyes filled with unabashed tears. Losing the team captaincy hurt more than anything else. His team meant more to him than any Head Boy duties and certainly more than being Hogwarts champion.

 

With something akin to sympathy in his faded blue eyes, Dumbledore continued, "Due to the severity of the situation House points will also be taken."

 

Oh no! Cedric was past utter dejection. Bad enough to lose the captaincy – that was killing blow all on its' own – but House points too in conjunction with all those other things? His fellow Badgers were going to murder him. They'd been ahead of all the other Houses by a good 170 points; up until now that is.

 

"Yes," Dumbledore reiterated with a solemn nod of his head at Cedric's stricken expression. "For Gryffindor as well." Cocking his head to side in contemplation, he laid it out for them. "I believe 100 points should suffice. Each."

 

Cedric's jaw dropped about the same time that Hermione let out a startled squeak causing Dumbledore's gaze to abruptly swivel toward her.

 

"Ah, Miss Granger," he began, as if he'd forgotten her existence. "Lemon drop?" Dumbledore offered the bewildered witch, pushing an odd-shaped dish across the desktop.

 

Hermione blinked. Candy? He was asking her if she wanted _candy_? And, was that a… _gas cap_?

 

"No, thank you, sir," she whispered shakily, her voice reed thin.

 

"As you wish," he demurred, while popping one into his mouth. After he rolled it around a time or two, he said, "Your discipline, Miss Granger will be of quite a different nature not withstanding the House points."

 

Hermione shivered, her bottom lip trembling uncontrollably. She had no way of knowing what was coming next, but she was fearful that the thing she wanted most was going to be denied her.

 

"Professor Dumbledore!"

 

The sharp urgency in Cedric's voice captured both their attention, and though the Headmaster inclined his head slightly in query, he did not look in the least perturbed at being so rudely interrupted.

 

"I… uh… umm… er…"

 

"Yes, Mister Diggory? You have something you would like to say?"

 

Flustered, Cedric answered probably more aggressively than he should have given the circumstances. "Yes, sir… I do!"

 

"Very well then," Dumbledore conceded, "continue."

 

Swallowing hard, Cedric exclaimed in a great rush of words, "It was all my fault, Headmaster! I take complete and full responsibility! Hermione is blameless!"

 

"Is she?" Dumbledore questioned, setting his gaze on the stunned young woman. Then with a slight twitch to his lips, he remarked casually, "She looks far from blameless from where I sit, Mr. Diggory."

 

Hermione blushed to the roots of her tangled, matted-with-blood mass of hair. Unsteady hands attempted to straighten out the wrinkled and soiled shirt, alternately pulling and smoothing at the material in an attempt to look more presentable. All she managed to really do was make Cedric clear his throat uneasily and frantically search for anything to look at other than how that damnable tugging was molding his shirt tightly over her chest.

 

"Miss Granger," Hermione ceased her futile attempts at grooming herself, "is what Mr. Diggory says accurate? Are you blameless?"

 

Hermione would really have liked to have given her whole-hearted assurance, but she just couldn't out-an-out lie to the wizard staring so seriously and expectantly back at her. His good opinion was one of the few that meant a great deal to her. So, either way she answered his question she was screwed.

 

"Not exactly, sir," she mumbled through stiff lips. Perhaps if she left it at that she wouldn't look so bad.

 

"I see," Dumbledore sighed, sounding tired. "I think you should both know that when Miss Chang was _Rennervated_ by Madame Pomfrey she absolved Mister Diggory of all wrong-doing."

 

"What?!"

 

A slight smile graced the Headmaster's lips at the simultaneous exclamation of the two students before him; both sounding unbelievably incredulous.

 

Nodding his head, Dumbledore continued, "Indeed. By Miss Chang's account, the only thing you are guilty of, Mr. Diggory is of dallying with Miss Chang in the Head Boys' quarters." Cedric wished the floor would open up and swallow him. That's how bloody embarrassed he was. Why in the world would she tell them about their heated snogging session? "Whereas, by Miss Chang's reckoning, the entire incident was precipitated by Miss Granger who attacked her without provocation."

 

"That's a lie," the students exclaimed passionately, both leaning forward in their urgency.

 

At hearing themselves once again speak in sync, they turned toward each other; Cedric's eyes were apologetic at Cho's blatant lie, while Hermione glared at him with outraged anger, clearly blaming him for his girlfriend's falsehood.

 

"I see," was all the Headmaster said, with a slight twinkle in his eyes that neither teen saw. "Mister Diggory, you are dismissed."

 

Cedric's head swiveled back to the older wizard. Huh? What? He could leave? What about Hermione? Cho had been far from the innocent, blameless victim she'd presented herself as. He really needed to clear up this misconception and fast!

 

As if reading his thoughts – and for all Cedric knew, he was – Dumbledore said, "Have no fear, Mr. Diggory I am acquainted with the truth of the matter."

 

"Oh," was Cedric's monosyllabic reply. Still not wanting to leave Dumbledore in any doubt on the true nature of events, he asked, "Then you know that the only reason Hermione got into a fight was because Cho goaded her into it?"

 

"I am aware," the Headmaster agreed, once more appearing quite grave which left Cedric with the impression that, in whatever way possible, Dumbledore knew of the terrible names that Cho had called Hermione. "You can safely leave Miss Granger in my hands."

 

What else was there for him to do? He'd been given his punishment and been dismissed. Yet, for some reason, he really didn't want to go; he didn't want to leave Hermione alone even with Dumbledore's guarantee still ringing in his ears. What to do?

 

"Mr. Diggory, please see yourself to the door."

 

The finality and firmness of that one sentence was the deciding factor for Cedric. Did he really want to go? Hell, no! Did he have a choice? Another resounding… hell no! But what could he do? The Headmaster couldn't have made his wishes much more plain. Should he pretend to be oblivious to Dumbledore's cues?

 

"Mr. Diggory."

 

Guess not, Cedric thought, noting the severe warning gleam in the older wizards' eyes which matched the somber timber of his voice.

 

"Yes, sir," Cedric grunted, reluctantly. As he turned to leave, he whispered out of the corner of his mouth, "Good luck, Granger."

 

Hermione, didn't even deign to look his way, just gave a disdainful sniff. Even though he was awfully certain she wouldn't welcome it, he briefly brushed her hand in passing as a gesture of support and comfort. At that, she gave him a quick side-long peek, and was that a smidge of gratitude he saw in those mournful brown eyes?

 

Cedric wasn't able to thoroughly decipher it because Dumbledore cleared his throat meaningful and said just before Cedric reached the gleaming wooden chamber door.

 

"Mr. Diggory… although you may be tempted to visit Miss Chang in the infirmary I strongly suggest that you do not. According to Madame Pomfrey she is sleeping soundly after having been giving a Calming Draught."

 

Cedric gave a momentary nod of his head as acknowledgment of Dumbledore's suggestion. During the short ride down the winding staircase, Cedric's thoughts were all for Hermione and her distressing circumstances. He hoped that he'd done enough to persuade the Headmaster of her relative guiltlessness. As he made his exit through the guardian gargoyle, the last thing on his mind was Cho Chang.

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**Author's Note:**

> Reviews and comments are a definite perk!


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